#why does my phone not capitalize neil
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that-vampire-loser · 4 months ago
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Andrew minyards closet is FULL. he’s the complete opposite of Neil, loves shopping, loves buying clothes (and buying neil clothes).
And what does neil do? Instead of wearing the clothes Andrew buys him, he just wears Andrew’s clothes
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khyrrn-v2 · 1 year ago
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First off: Neil Gaiman’s Assurances
In season 2, Job asks God why He has forsaken them.
God tells him: “Come back when you can make a whale.”
After season 2, when @clevercorvidae asked:
“dear neil,
i just finished season 2. i have one question: why.”
Neil tells them: “Come back when you can make a whale.”
This tells us two things.
1.) Neil Gaiman has a wicked sense of humor
and
2.) Neil in at least someways has likened himself to the God of this book. And as said God has told us “I do not play dice with universe; I play an ineffable game of my own devising.”
Neil is telling us that he has plans and most every mistake displayed in season 2 therefore must be intentional.
God does not play dice with the universe, and neither does Neil.
~~
Secondly: On their “First” meeting in the stars
Why did Aziraphale ask what Crowley was doing when he was making the stars, only to turn around and say “nah they’re shutting that down in 6k years.”
Wouldn’t there have been a sign saying “Be not afraid: creation of Star Factory and the Home of Humanity for the next 6 thousand years in progress” posted somewhere?
It can’t have been much of a secret if Aziraphale knew Corporate Heaven’s plans for it.
~~
Thirdly: Maggie’s behavior, “history,” and the lock-in scene in general
- This is probably just a me thing, but when Maggie said “[telling people you’re not crying] is just a thing people say” she said it almost on autopilot, as if giving context for an “imaginary” audience, instead of confusion over how Aziraphale didn’t know such a common phrase. Maybe that’s just me, but it put me off the first time i watched that scene.
- If Crowley’s freakout in the middle of the street caused the minor outage, why were the lights across the street still on? Why weren’t more people freaking out about their phones on the street. Our society is filled with phone-addicts so wouldn’t at least a good portion of them immediately notice something wrong?
- When Maggie and Nina are talking in the locked cafe, Maggie says “originally our shop was in a corner of Mr. Fell’s bookshop.”
Now, records may not be popular nowadays, but a few generations ago? Business was booming. It wasn’t uncommon for people to have records back then.
We don’t have Maggie’s approximate family line, so we can’t say for sure if Maggie’s great grandma started selling records before their rise to popularity. However, we can say that Aziraphale, when comes to his bookshop, hates any and all foot traffic.
If he really was trying to help Maggie’s great grandma out, why not immediately find her a location nearby where she could set up shop? Aziraphale likes records, but he’s definitely not going to risk his books for them. Why would he let Maggie-triple-senior stay there?
Unless this is just, according to OP’s theory, a story Metatron concocted so that Maggie and Aziraphale would interact.
- Maggie’s “no judgement” when Nina starts Drinking with a capital D. Gives off “holier-than-thou” vibes tbh.
- Why did Maggie have the power to invite the demons inside when Mr. AJ “Loverboy” Crowley himself has stated he couldn’t. It implies some degree of ownership of the shop right? So why couldn’t Crowley invite people in? Because he’s a demon? Surely Aziraphale would’ve found a way around that. (Tho tbf this theory only sticks bc we are assuming Crowley wasn’t lying when talking to Shax outside the bookshop.)
Still, why did Maggie have that power over the bookshop? It doesn’t make sense.
~~
In conclusion:
@neil-gaiman is God, Maggie is too smart to be an angel but too (let’s call it) stiff to be a human, and now that I’m thinking about it season 2 is hella sus.
This is only what I remember right off the bat, so I’m sure there are mistakes, but I really wanted to add my tidbits to @ariaste’s theory.
Btw, Ariaste, ty for making the season finale seem a little less bleak.
The Magic Trick You Didn’t See: Being An Analysis of Good Omens Season 2
(or: Neil Gaiman, Your Brain is Gorgeous But I Have Cracked Your Sneaky Little Code And Have You Dead To Rights*) (*Maybe)
***
Soooooo I just spent the last 48 hours having a BREATHTAKING GALAXY BRAIN EPIPHANY about Good Omens Season 2 and feverishly writing a fuckin16,000 word essay about the incredible magic trick that @neil-gaiman pulled off. 
Yes, it’s long, but I PROMISE your brains will explode. Do you want to know how magic works? Do you want to know what Metatron’s deal is (I’m like 99% sure of this and it’s EXTREMELY FUCKING GOOD)? Do you want to know about the Mystery of the Vanishing Eccles Cakes and the big fat beautiful clue I found in the opening credits? Do you go through the whole inventory of Chekov’s Firearm & Heavy Artillery Discount Warehouse? 
Here is the essay, go read it: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ When ur done u can tell me I’m an insane crackpot, and u know what, i won’t even be offended
In case you don’t know whether you want to bother reading the whole enormous thing on google docs, I’ve put the first couple sections of it under the cut. JUST TRUST ME OKAY, HEAR ME OUT, THIS IS VERY EXTREMELY COOL, NEIL IS GOOD AT HIS JOB–
Keep reading
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livingasaghost · 4 years ago
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okay so i always see a bunch of ridiculous aftg headcanons soooo i decided to put my hat in the ring and try it out
this is all about the foxes and their chaotic as hell groupchats
so let’s imagine for a second that this series doesn’t take place in the early 2000s so smart phones exist 
periodically the foxes have exchanged numbers with each other - obviously each of the cliques can contact each other, but then throughout that first year there are little things that cause people to give out their numbers
like at some point nicky lets it slip that he’s having trouble with his stats class and out of the blue allison offers to meet up with him because she’s surprisingly like really great at math? so the two of them start up a little text chain where they just shit talk everyone and start a few random bets
and then dan gets katelyn’s number from one of the other vixens and the two of them initially just start texting about game details...which turns into bonding over make-up and girl talk and eventually dan starts inviting katelyn to hang out with her and the fox girls
at first renee is the only one who has everyone’s number because she’s the only one who everyone likes 
but then after their big win, renee just puts everyone in one massive groupchat so no one gets left out and they can all bond and it’s just as chaotic as one would expect
at first everyone’s just trying to figure out who’s who, but not everyone has an iphone so all the iphone users are really pissed off at the green bubbles
aaron’s the only one with an android because of course he is
he refuses to switch to an iphone even when the rest of the team BEGS him to bc he “doesn’t see the point”
for the whole summer after neil’s first year, the team keeps trying to pressure him and andrew into upgrading their phones because the team is so sick of what it’s doing to the groupchat
neil doesn’t really know how it all works because he’s still getting used to having a phone and having friends to text, but then everyone starts sending him emojis that don’t show up properly and his phone won’t load any photos they send and the rest of the foxes are so FRUSTRATED bc neil doesn’t seem to notice
eventually, in a shocking turn of events, andrew gets so fed up with the chaos of everyone texting his flip phone that he’s the one who gives in
he shows up at the dorm one day and just hands neil a little baggie with his new iphone
they’re just starting to get it set up when nicky strolls in and IMMEDIATELY takes over, showing neil all about emojis and changing your phone background and saving all the fox contacts
neil is, unsurprisingly, very overwhelmed and slightly terrified, so andrew reaches over and does it all for him, and nicky just looks put out
it takes neil like six months to change any of his contacts or backgrounds or settings because he just doesn’t care
eventually he does manage to set his lockscreen to a really bad photo he took of andrew when he wasn’t paying attention
andrew notices it one day and chooses not to say anything
(he secretly loves it)
when the groupchats start heating up.......neil realizes it’s kind of fun to have a smart phone because it feels like the foxes are with him all the time
after neil and andrew get iphones, the rest of the team decide to make a separate groupchat for just apple users bc no one really texts aaron regularly anyway
at first it’s just a place where people drop details about practices
dan shares news from wymack and abby and then kevin starts giving orders about what the foxes can do better
and somehow that is the tipping point
because everyone hates when kevin starts talking exy
(except neil)
so everyone jumps on him and it’s the perfect icebreaker
nicky is the obnoxious one who sends a ridiculous amount of emojis and gifs and reaction images (neil never knows where he finds them all) - he also sends the most tiktoks. usually ones that are super inappropriate or just plain stupid.
allison texts a lot because she’s always attached to her phone ready for the tea and sometimes she’ll send a really raunchy meme just to spice things up
neil doesn’t really know what’s going on half the time - and he never really scrolls up to see what he’s missed - so if and when he does respond, it’s usually just to ask clarifying questions or give a thumbs up
matt is the one who always checks in to make sure everyone’s doing okay - he’ll send really encouraging texts that people like andrew shit on
one time matt sends everyone a really sweet text over the holidays about how much they mean to him....and then dan just kicks him out of the gc and goes “okay enough of that bullshit i hate u guys xoxo” and andrew gives it a thumbs up
sometimes when he’s bored andrew will just kick out everyone but renee and neil bc why not
kevin is the one who gets kicked out the most 
sometimes it’s because he texts about exy, but eventually it just becomes a running joke that they’ll kick him out randomly
like they’ll be in the middle of a conversation and then allison will just boot him out of the gc just to see what he’ll do
usually when this happens kevin will just send an angry message in one of the other gcs telling neil to add him back
it’s usually neil or renee who adds someone back bc they feel bad that people get left out of the gc
renee has this weird obsession with tiktok and she sends them CONSTANTLY like usually they remind her of certain teammates
she’ll send these at all hours of the night bc she has trouble sleeping and that means more time to scroll through the app from hell
and even though it gets on everyone’s nerves, no one can hate renee so they all just kind of....watch the videos and then everyone’s obsessed with tiktok
dan will send memes and things but only when they’re like so ridiculously funny that they get the whole gc wheezing at midnight on a school night
and usually they’re SO ridiculous that they only make sense to dan
“Dan you do realize we have practice tomorrow?”
“matt shut up this girl is talking like MARGE SIMPSON I CANT BREATHE”
most of the foxes text without proper capitalization or punctuation but  matt and kevin and neil (and aaron) are all very proper with their texting
dan makes fun of matt all the time bc he doesn’t seem like the kind of person to Use Proper English but matt doesn’t understand why everyone can’t just use capitals when it’s automatic (he doesn’t know how to turn it off)
neil uses proper grammar just bc it doesn’t occur to him to do anything else
andrew uses lowercase bc it reads like a monotone to him and he thinks it’s ~cool~ and he also likes making kevin mad
sometimes he’ll use the wrong punctuation and grammar on purpose just to get kevin to reply to his texts
eventually nicky realizes he can change the group name and the group photo so he starts the most chaotic conversation by dramatically changing it to a snapchat screenshot of neil asleep on andrew’s lap and calling the gc SEXY EXY BESTIES 👅💦
it stays like that for all of two minutes before kevin notices and quickly changes the name to The Foxes
and then it becomes a free for all as everyone tries to be smart and snarky and ridiculous
stans of kevin’s left hand
the foxwhore court
🧡 Neil Josten Fanclub 🧡
life’s like a game of exy🥍
periodically throughout the week someone will change the name as they see fit - normally it’s something stupid but sometimes they’ll start an actual conversation by changing the group name
The Ungrateful Foxes
fuck you kevin
Guys plz be nice to Kevin
YOU KNOW, I GET IT—
The Worst Team in the NCAA
fuck you kevin
GO TO SLEEP NEIL!!!
one time after they’d spent like two weeks being called wymack’s whores, andrew decided he’d had enough of that so he just renamed it 🖕🏻🦊
and they do have a separate gc with wymack (they just don’t need to bother him with all their shitty commentary)
but funny enough, they’re almost worse in the wymack gc
at first wymack tried to control everyone by kicking people out who misbehaved, but then it just kept happening until it was him, kevin and renee left and he had to let it go
now all the foxes will text him at the most random times with the most random of questions
they also have a running joke where they all call him dad
kevin hates it, but wymack secretly thinks it’s hilarious and sweet
“hey dad can we get pizza after practice tomorrow???”
“dad nicky’s being a bitch can you make him run extra laps”
“WAIT DID YOU GUYS KNOW THAT WYMACK IS KEVIN’S ACTUAL DAD??? *blinking man gif*”
kevin starts leaving the gc instead of waiting to be kicked out
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artificialac1d · 4 years ago
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aswhoa there big ol spirit phone post whoaaaaa. (I WAS ORIGINALLY DOING ALL OF THE ALBUMS BUT THAT WOULD BE TOO LONG SO I’LL DO INDIVIDUAL POSTS FOR THE ALBUMS) (NOT INCLUDING MASHUPS SORRY :[)
alright lets go sorry if theres spelling mistakes i am tired and my keyboard hates me ;[ spirit phone - ok so VERY COOL the first half i feel is supernatural and the second half is more like.... a comment on capitalism?? yeah,, idk either thats what most people say lol. thanks neil!! lifetime achievement award (ebiccc). very long (ab 6 minutes) BUT the length is worth it!! the lyrics are jammin not to mention the instrumental!! the singing is very chefs kiss let alone the effects on the singing!! very cool song. touch tone telephone!! (ttt) so ttt is VERY jammin but its a little overrated. I GET WHY, but it is definitely not the best song made by lemon demon. well i guess thats mostly up to interpretation, but its not the best. the message is cool!!! conspiracy theorist going fucking batshit crazy?? hell yeah!!  cabinet man (😳) how the fuc did this man get in cabinet???? hfgbrfj.. ANYWAYS the beep boop instrumental is one of THE BEST on the album next to the very epic instrumental of as your father i expressly forbid it. anyways, the lyrics and beat are v nice v satisfying!! i love singing this song like, only third to as your father and soft fuzzy man!! singing is hard :[ no eyed girl (where are her eyes???) neil is a monster/alien fucker and you cannot change my mind. no eyed girl is one of my favorite songs!! i mean all of the lemon demon songs are one of my favorite songs but... um,, ANYWAYS. imagine being some guy who just like, made the world get destroyed bc you were horny over an alien. when he died (holy fuck what is up with this dude) the amount of mysteries that are brought up in thius song is AMAZING. when i listen to lemon demon on alexa the only albums i have access to are nature tapes and spirit phone (because i use spotify and not apple music) and i hear this all the time!! its ALWAYS a good time very bangin very jammin 20/10 sweet bod (aha 😳 what do you mean im eating a dead body) neil?? are you sure it isnt sexual??? super synthy and cool!! the funk never ends!!! funky town!! never go down!! (im sorry) the idea of drinking dead bodies to cure cancer though not very cash money. wowie zowie capitalism!! the lyrics make me uncomfortable if im listening to it with someone else BUT if im alone i will  scream sing this song eighth wonder!! (goofy mongoose ends humanity) i heard like in the commentary that neil was proud of this song and honestly, i dont blame him. VERY jammin. i keep saying jammin but i dont have synonyms. i havent read that news article about gef but i should sometime!! the way the song just is is just mwah  ancient aliens!! (caveman go aaaaa) i dont have much to say about this one because it isnt my favorite. NOT because it doesnt jam hard but its just not as good as other ones. man i am mostly just praising neil. this is fun to sing!! instrumental is VERY cool bery epic,,, soft fuzzy man (hhhottie 😳) this is my FAVORITEEEEE i can say SO much about this song on how it JAMS. the little beep boop after the first part is GREAT I LOVE IT. the chorus lives rent free in my brain. singing this is the best source of serotonin !!! ahhh the lyrics and the message!! very cool!! i love that neil made this song as a comment on dudes who think being mysterious is cool (yucfky ew) one lyric taken out of context makes me feel weird but like idk i just link it with something not great (once you go hazy you’ll understand i’m your soft fuzzy man sounds like he roofied someone) BUT i can ignore that because that wasnt the intention of the lyric!! very ebic songgg. as your father i expressly forbid it!! (neils my dad???) whoa,, neil scrEAM,,,, honestly i cant stop thinking of neil’s daughter while listening to this (sorry) but umm THE INSTRUMENTAL IS THE B EST!! the little beeop boop>?>?? YES i love it sorry about like not being able to get ideas across my brain is old computer stalling noise rn i earn my life (he damn earned it) this is my moms favorite!! (yeah she likes it too surprisingly!!) this song is really nice,, verry cool little instrumental bits!! awesome!! singing it is a 10/10 experience!!! reaganomics!! (baby, baby. YEAHHHHHH)  whoa!!! ronald reagan?? and he wants to take you for a ride?? anyways, whoa!! instrumental!! i can tell that neil puts a lot of effort into his songs because ALL of the main tracks are bangers.  man-made object (shit i caught insomnia from looking at the moon😔) SO big ol giant tower towering over everything!!! i kinda have a bad experience with this song because when i drew fanart for it my friend misconstrued the tie i drew with... a sexual organ. (hes fucked up) does NOT mean the song is bad but i get reminded of that whenever i listen to it. very COOL SONG!! YES!! build that giant skyscraper girl you go spiral of ants (im im caught in the spiral of ants girl) whoa last song... ON THE MAIN TRACK AHAHA!! just kidding i cant do the bonus tracks. ANYWAYS whoa!! a tornado of ants? count me in! the lyrics are very epic!! and fun to sing except for the AND WE BECAME A HURRICANE because its a high note and i suck at high notes 😔i did it once but i cant anymore 😔😔this sounds very nice i love it!!  if you read this all the way,, fucking,,,, thANKS because this is hella long im sorry i hope you liked my opinions bye!! <3 i’ll be doing more album stuff in the future (possibly even tonight because i have nothing to do with my life.
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audrey-lim · 5 years ago
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A Rush of Bourbon to the Head - A Limlendez Fic
I am back. I am back with middle-aged ship smut fic. It’s like I never left. Tho this time it’s Lim/Melendez flavoured. And the way I see this ship is: Neil worships the ground that Audrey Lim walks upon and she permits him. Good shit. Continue reading for approxmiately 6.5k more words of that good shit. 
Title: A Rush of Bourbon to the Head
Summary: Post 2x09. Neil and Audrey meet together for bourbon and start 2x10 waking up next to each other in bed. This bridges the gap.
 A fic in which: -Audrey says the word 'fuck' a lot -Neil looks adoringly at Audrey -Bourbon is drunk -Fucking is done -Heart to hearts are had.
Teaser: 
He smiled, then reached out and gently covered her hand with his own, “You’re a great surgeon, Audrey,” he said warmly, “And you would have made a great chief.” 
“There is a lot of wisdom in this bourbon,” she teased, squinting down into it to avoid the burning intensity of his gaze.
 “You found any, yet?” 
 “I might have,” she said, mouth a little dry, still not sure if what she was thinking right now was wisdom or insanity. Maybe a little of both. 
Link: AO3
On days like today, heading in to Crowley’s bar felt more like coming home than her own place. There were few problems, she’d found, that couldn’t be improved upon by mulling them over with a glass of bourbon.
She didn’t bother looking for Neil, just wound her way through the familiar layout of tables and chairs with the same surgical precision she applied in the OR until she found him at their regular places.
Surgeons could be a surprisingly superstitious lot. She had never subscribed to much of it herself. But there were certain constants in the universe you just didn’t fuck with. Like the perfect spot in your favourite bar, deduced over years of careful experimentation and testing.  
Collapsing into the chair beside him, she signalled for another two bourbons with some curt hand gestures, then shrugged off her leather jacket. It felt strange to wear it without her helmet in tow, or her Ducati, for that matter. But it had felt stranger not to wear it at all.
“I was never gonna confront Andrews,” she said bluntly, without so much as a ‘hello’ to warm things up first. She had been stewing since Andrews’ announcement, and had worked out exactly what she wanted to say to Neil. No point beating about the bush. “I was playing you. But damn if you didn’t actually make it work.”
She didn’t add what they both knew – that if she had confronted Andrews, it was unlikely he’d have reacted with anything other than resentment towards her for challenging him.
Neil shook his head. “It didn’t work for anybody,” he pointed out, flatly. “He played us both. He set us against each other.”
Audrey sighed, looking away from Neil. That was true enough. All those years of working, of grafting, of giving her blood, and sweat, and soul to this job, and that conceited bastard was just going to ‘retain his title’.
“I think you were right,” Neil continued, pulling her out of her bitter thoughts” She looked up and met his eyes again, sipping at her drink. The familiar burn was oddly soothing, purging some of her anger.
“Even if you were just bluffing,” he paused and she raised her eyebrows at him. He’d always had a penchant for the dramatic, even when they’d been residents together. And he’d never known how to just spit something out, he had to take his time, mull it over, let the moment build. “We need to stand together.” He nodded to himself.
“Where was that wisdom two days ago?” she demanded, unable to keep the distinct note of indignation from her voice.
If she was being fair, it probably wouldn’t have made any damned difference. There was no greater power in heaven or earth that could match Andrews’ sense of self-importance. But she wasn’t in the mood to be fair. Nothing else in life bothered, why the fuck should she?
Neil gave her a small half smile and raised his glass, “Still in the bottle.”
She huffed a soft laugh and they both sipped at what passed for wisdom these days.
People called Neil arrogant, but that only showed how little they knew him. He came across that way, and he could be an ass at times. But his heart was generally in the right place, and he had the rare ability to be able to back down and admit he’d fucked up. She appreciated that.
It made it hard to be mad at him. Since she wanted to be mad at something right now, she might still have ended up taking things out on him. But it had been a long day, and she knew that he was just as upset and angry as she was. Time to stand together, follow her own advice. Even if it had been mostly bullshit at the time.
“What other pearls of genius are in there?” she asked.
“That remains to be seen.”
“Well, I for one am curious to find out.”
She made to signal to the bartender to fill them both up again. Drowning one’s sorrows was a time honoured tradition, and she approved of tradition. Whenever there was bourbon involved, anyway.
Neil put a hand on her wrist, though, stopping her. “Aren’t you on shift tomorrow in the ER?” he asked lightly. There was no judgement in his voice, just practicality.
“I know my limits,” she replied, honestly. “If we’ve reached yours I can order you a water instead,” she offered sweetly.
He laughed, “Not even close.”
There. He still had a little spark of fire about him every now and then. She could see it sparking in his eyes, that light of challenge, of competition kindling there.
When they had been residents she’d had better things to do with her time than compete with Neil Melendez. She only had to prove herself better than she had been the day before. Once they had matured into surgeons at the same hospital, though…Well, a little friendly competition with a colleague had never done anyone any harm.
It had kept them both at the top of their game. It had pushed them, and driven them, and it was fun, dammit. He hadn’t been wrong when he’d called her out as an adrenaline junkie in the OR. She was.
She lived for those thrills – the wind tearing through her on her bike, nothing between it and her but leather and skill. The intensity of a difficult surgery, catching a life in your bare hands and snatching it back from the brink of death.
Sparring with Neil gave her the same high, the same rush, the same thrill. It kept life interesting. The only thing she’d ever truly feared was being bored, and he certainly prevented that. In a number of intoxicating ways.
“Good,” she said, grinning at him.
They both knew she could drink him under a table. And a second. And occasionally a third. That had stopped being a competition years ago. Now it was just the subject for gentle teasing.
“Although,” Neil added, as she made to catch the bartender’s eye again, “The residents are probably going to be here in about,” he checked his watch, “Twenty minutes, give or take.”
She groaned. “I will never forgive you for telling them about this place,” she growled at him.
“It’s a good bar,” he said defensively, with the gall to laugh a little as though anything about this was even remotely funny.
“It’s our bar,” she countered, “This place is more holy than my OR.”
“I was passing on our legacy!” he insisted.
“You were giving away our closely guarded secrets – that’s a capital offence. Ten years, Neil. Ten years we’ve been coming to this bar undisturbed by work and you just open the door and bow in our residents? What the fuck.”
“How about I get us a bottle to go and we head back to mine and find out what’s at the bottom?” he said with a soft smile.
“Nice deflection,” she admitted.
“Must be those great leadership skills shining through,” he said, grinning. She glowered darkly at him. He had the sense to raise his hands in a gesture of surrender. “It’ll be quiet, no residents, and I’ll even let you pick the background music.”
A very good offer. Damn him but he knew her too well sometimes.
“You’re on,” she said, raising a finger, “On the condition that you’re buying.” He raised his eyebrows at her, “On account of you being an apple,” she said, pointedly.
He laughed at that, “Deal.”
She waited outside while he settled and came out to meet her. His sharp eyes scanned the parking lot as they started to walk through it then he said, “I don’t see your chariot have death anywhere. Does this mean you’ve finally sent it to the scrapyard where it belongs?”
She scowled at him, “The Ducati is at home, thank you,” she replied in slightly clipped tones.
He raised his eyebrows at her. They both knew it was her pride and joy, and that she’d rather cut off her own hands than willingly scrap it.
She grimaced. He was going to find out anyway, but damn…
“Technically,” she grit out reluctantly, “My licence has been suspended.” She paused then amended firmly, “Temporarily suspended.”
He laughed at that, as though he was begging her to stab him, “What? What the hell did you do?” he asked, automatically assuming she must have done something to deserve this. The fact that she technically had didn’t make it any less galling. “No, wait, let me guess – you were going way too fast on your death machine in pursuit of an adrenaline high?”
“They couldn’t prove shit,” she muttered darkly.
“Apparently they could,” Neil said, sounding entirely too amused by the entire situation.
“I’ll tell you what I can prove,” she snapped, rising to his bait even though she knew this was exactly what he was fishing for, “That judge was a power crazy bitch and when I’m through with her she will beg me to take her back in time so she can stop her former self from attending law school so she never has to deal with me.”
“Nice,” Neil said, grinning, “You talk to her like that, too?”
“Only after she kept me waiting at the back of her courtroom for six hours because I took one two minute phone call from Murphy and Reznick about a patient,” she snapped. “And I’ll have you know I was very polite,” she added.
“Oh I bet you were,” Neil said, insufferable smile widening as he let them into his building and held the door for her.
“Six hours, Neil. Six hours,” she said, stepping in before him and turning back to look at him, eyes flashing.
“You called her out in the middle of her courtroom and you’re surprised she threw the book at you?” he said, leaning past her to press the button for the lift. “What would you do if a patient called you out like that in the ER?”
“I don’t know, but I probably wouldn’t gouge their eye out and then lock them in a closet for spite, because I’m an adult,” she said, shaking her head.
“She put you in a holding cell, didn’t she?” he said, with the balls to sound amused as he locked himself into a confined space with her for the duration of their ride up to the top floor.
“For nine hours.” He snorted. “I saw things in there I can never un-see,” she said, leaning against the wall, Neil watching her, still smirking, “I learned things about humanity that almost made me quit medicine.”
He laughed at that, the sound bursting from him. He had a good laugh. Full, and genuine.
Another mistake people often made about him was assuming he was serious. He could be. And about some things her eighty three year old aunt had more levity. But he had a good sense of humour, mostly, and they’d always been able to talk about things like this without worrying about it coming back and biting them on the ass one day. They were competitive, but they weren’t bastards about it.
“It’s not funny!” she snapped, even though his laughter was infectious and it was taking all of her control not to crack a smile with him.
“It kinda is,” he said, his smile fond and affectionate, “Especially when I imagine you having to take cabs all over the city.”
She groaned and rolled her eyes, “They drive like old women!” she hissed at him, “I could walk faster!”
He laughed again and she whacked his chest and stalked out of the lift as the doors opened.
“Just get that damn door open and a glass of bourbon into my hand before I murder you,” she ordered.
“Yes ma’am.”
***
Twenty minutes later, with a glass of bourbon in hand, and her choice of music accompanying their evening as promised, Audrey was decidedly calmer, and was feeling reflective again.
“Did you mean what you said in Crowley’s?” she asked, turning her head to look at where Neil was sat next to her on the couch.
He was doing what passed for sprawling with him - legs extended out before him, shirt wrinkled, posture relaxed. She sat next to him with her legs curled up under her, shoes kicked off, comfortable here after all the time she’d spent with him over the years.
He raised his eyebrows at her, inviting clarification, “About us working together,” she said bluntly.
Neil considered for a moment, taking an exaggerated amount of time to sip at his drink. “I did,” he said, finally, “We’re better that way – better doctors.”
She nodded, thoughtful, “A little healthy competition between us has historically been a good thing, too,” she pointed out. “It pushes us. That also makes us better doctors.”
“True,” he agreed, “But only when it pushes us in the right direction. Pushing us apart, the way Andrews was doing, is not helpful.”
“Agreed,” she said, toasting those words with another drink.
They were quiet for a moment, Neil tracing the rim of his glass with the tip of a careful finger, “I didn’t mean what I said to you in the OR – about you being too much of an adrenaline junkie to handle the job.”
“You don’t think I’m an adrenaline junkie?” she teased lightly, too taken aback by the sudden sincerity, the light of genuine regret in his eyes as he looked at her, to think up a more serious reply.
“Oh I do,” he said, with a wry smile, “But I don’t think you would let it compromise you as chief. We all have our vices in this job – we need them to survive it. But you’ve never let them rule you. You’d have the board eating out of the palm of your hand in less than a month.” He drained his glass.
She scoffed, “Try less than a week,” she said, tone light and playful.
Neil laughed again, “And obviously your stunning humility would be a great asset, too,” he teased, leaning forward and lifting the bourbon from the table, refilling his glass.
She held hers out, and he wordlessly topped her up, too.
She idly studied the delicate tattoo on his neck that his movement had revealed. More idly still, she imagined tracing it with the tip of her finger, and had to fight a sudden mad impulse to do it right then and there.
Where did that come from?
There had been tension and attraction between them before. They were both attractive people, they could admit that. And they were close. They had flirted with the idea on more than one occasion.
But they’d always had other partners – or other priorities. The prospect was exciting, intoxicating. She’d be lying if she said she’d never considered what it would be like. She knew he had, too. The way he looked at her sometimes, as though he wanted nothing so much as to peel her out of her leathers and experiment with the delights of human anatomy on a far more intimate level than usual.
She started, jolting herself from those thoughts. Sometimes she could be an adrenaline junkie. Sometimes those impulses could even be dangerous. Maybe there wasn’t as much wisdom to be found in a bottle of bourbon as she’d assumed when they started this.
Leaning back into the couch away from him, she found herself saying, “I didn’t mean what I said, either.”  
“You don’t really think I’m a shallow poser who’s just interested in a shiny new title?” he asked, eyes twinkling.
She groaned, covering her face with a hand. It sounded so much worse when he put it like that.
“No, I don’t,” she said, keeping her tone uncharacteristically gentle, taking care not to let his levity pull her away from the sincerity of her own guilt over that confrontation.
She reached out and laid a gentle hand on his arm. He looked down at her hand, at the contact, and only looked away when she spoke again.
“I know that you care,” she said, quietly, “I know that you want this for more than the title, and the advancement, and the prestige.” She gave his arm a squeeze. “You’re a good man, Neil, and I know you would make things better.”
Feeling a little awkward she withdrew her hand and took a large gulp of her bourbon. She wasn’t good at this shit. These gentle heart-to-hearts seemed to come so naturally to him, the sincere advice, the tender understanding. It felt sometimes he could draw that from a stone. Meanwhile she was the stone.
A lot of the staff, the nurses in particular, said that her brusqueness and aloofness were responses to the pressures of the job, that she couldn’t let herself be soft or she would collapse.
A lot of what the staff said in general was bullshit, but that particular nugget took the cake.
This was just who she was. It always had been. Straight-up, practical, composed and in control at all times. She didn’t know any other way to be.
She wasn’t a robot. She still felt, still hurt, still sought out these quieter moments even. She just...Had never been great about showing any of that.  
Neil was watching her with such a kind, gentle look in his eyes that it made her want to rip his shirt off and kiss him breathless.
She controlled that impulse by toasting him with her glass and adding bluntly, “I stand by what I said about you being an asshat, though.”
He smiled, then reached out and gently covered her hand with his own, “You’re a great surgeon, Audrey,” he said warmly, “And you would have made a great chief.”
“There is a lot of wisdom in this bourbon,” she teased, squinting down into it to avoid the burning intensity of his gaze.
“You found any, yet?”  
“I might have,” she said, mouth a little dry, still not sure if what she was thinking right now was wisdom or insanity. Maybe a little of both.
He raised his eyebrows invitingly.
“Are you fishing for compliments from me, Melendez?” she demanded, rather than offering up exactly what kind of wisdom the bourbon had imparted to her.
“You wound me,” he said dramatically.
“You are a great surgeon, too, Neil. You don’t need me to tell you that,” he looked expectantly at her. She rolled her eyes and added, “And yes, you would have made a great chief.” He smiled knowingly at her, waiting for the quip he knew was coming. She decided not to disappoint him, “Just as long as you always had me there to steal great ideas from.”
He laughed again, that full laugh of his, eyes crinkling at the corners.
“You are never going to let that go, are you?”
“Nope. It’s going to be in your eulogy,” she said, grinning..
“You think you’re going to outlive me?” he said, eyebrows raised, “With your mechanical ticket to an early grave? Even on temporary suspension, it’s still going to get you before anything gets me.”
“Then in that case I’m sorry,” she said loftily.
“For what?” he said, still laughing.
“For your future self - bereft, and lonely, and oh so bored without me.”
He smiled, but sobered enough to say, with all that aching sincerity he had, “I would be.”
“Hmm, the bourbon’s talking again,” she said mildly.
“I think it’s still being wise,” he murmured.  
She paused, swirling the last of hers in the bottom of her glass, considering, “That assessment is currently under review,” she said finally.
“Why’s that?”
She met his eyes. He was playing a dangerous game, teasing this out, leading them onwards. From the look on his face, he knew exactly what he was doing. Bastard.
“Because,” she said, voice measured, “It’s encouraging the adrenaline junkie and giving her terrible ideas.”
“Hmm,” he mused lightly, leaning in just a little, his shirt shifting and revealing the tattoo once more. She knew his sharp eyes didn’t miss the way hers darted down to it. “It’s making the shallow poser very interested in hearing them.”
She leaned in to him, drawn in, as she always had been, by that intensity, that single-minded focus that right now was fixed entirely upon her. “You sure about that?” she breathed, close enough to feel the heat of his breath on her lips, as welcome and inviting as the burn of their bourbon.
“Only one way to find out.”
She kissed him.
It started out as a gentle thing, hestiatant, testing, still half-convinced that they were talking about completely different things and he would pull away from her the second their lips met.
He didn’t. He parted his lips in invitation and she answered enthusiastically - enthusiastically and not at all gently. That had never been her style.
He smiled against her mouth, slid a gentle hand into her hair, coaxing her closer. He was always so damn tender. So careful, and precise.
She didn’t want careful and precise. She wanted hot and heavy like the bourbon she could taste on his tongue. She wanted him to want this, to need this as much as she did. She wanted him to lose that self-control for just a second, to stop being a doctor and start just being human, so painfully human with all of their raw vulnerabilities, and wants, and needs, and instincts.  
Just when she started to feel his restraint slip, he drew back, breathing hard.
She met his eyes, still half-afraid she would find regret in them.
“Interesting,” he said, nothing but heat in his gaze, “I think it merits further testing to establish its full potential.”  
Cautiously, he leaned in and kissed her back.
Maybe it had been too hasty to expect him to rip her clothes off at the first kiss. There was a lot of history between them, a lot of respect, a lot of trust. They had to be sure. Very sure. Lines were being crossed as she took his tongue in her mouth and sucked. Lines they hadn’t crossed in over a decade of knowing each other.
They broke apart again after their latest testing clash.
Sure. They had to be sure. They had to do this carefully, if they were going to do this at all. They should talk about it, firmly establish what was happening, plan this like they’d plan a surgery.
He looked up and she met his eyes and found such certainty in them that for a moment she forgot how to breathe. She had never thought that he would look at her like that, with so much raw lust it seared.
Fuck being careful. Fuck planning. Fuck lines and boundaries and history. Fuck thinking.
Before she had fully processed what she was doing, she had grabbed the glass of bourbon from his hand and shoved it towards the table along with her own. The glasses slid to the edge of the table, one nearly toppling.
Neil leaned forwards to fix it, but she was already crashing into him, momentum pushing him back against the couch cushions. She settled into his lap, straddling his hips and leaning down to kiss him again.
How had she gone so long without doing this? How had she survived ten years without ever knowing what it felt like to kiss him? How could she go another ten years without spending every second with his lips on hers, his body against hers, the heat of his skin scorching her.
Problems for another time, she decided, as he moaned softly into her mouth, and she gave up on having another coherent thought again that wasn’t solely focused on how to make him do that again.
He drew back a second later and she growled faintly in displeasure. Then she forgave him as his lips found her neck and set to exploring until he found a spot that made her arch into him. Once he found it, she slid her fingers into his hair, holding him in place. He took the hint and kissed there until she tugged sharply on his hair, cutting him off with a gasp.
“I don’t intend to be gentle with you,” she warned him, breathing heavily.
“I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
She smiled and dipped back down to kiss him. Contrary to what she’d just said to him, she was gentle. She knew what she wanted from a partner in bed, and emotionally investing in a fuck wasn’t exactly her style.
But this was a little different. This was Neil. She figured after a decade of history, he was entitled to a little bit of special treatment from her. But only a little.
Neil lifted her from the couch without warning and she broke the kiss, startling, legs tightening around his waist, frowning down at him in disapproval even as he put a hand on her back to steady her.
“You good?” he asked, pausing and suddenly looking concerned.
She huffed irritably, blowing hair from her eyes, “A little warning would be nice,” she grumbled.
He smirked at her, leaning in and kissing that spot on her neck he’d identified earlier, “I thought you liked living on the edge,” he teased.
She growled and squirmed slightly in his arms, “Get on with it, Neil,” she growled.
“You’re very bossy, you know,” he observed.
“I warned you.”
“I’m not complaining,” he said, evenly.
A lot of men did. She found it...Intriguing that he was so seemingly comfortable with all of this.
She draped her arms around his shoulders and leaned in, kissing her way up his neck, following the line of his jaw until she reached his ear. She dragged his earlobe between her teeth until he groaned then hissed in his ear, “Bedroom. Now.”
He laughed bt obliged, managing to kick the door shut behind them as she began unpicking the button’s on his shirt. A surgeon’s delicacy came in handy in all sorts of other places in life, she’d found.
She studied him with an appraising gaze, eyes lingering on the tattoo on his neck and chest, fingers tracing delicately over it as she’d fantasised about previously. Then she found herself pressed up against the nearest wall, his lips on hers, earning a soft, approving growl in the back of her throat.
“Was that too-” he began, drawing away a second.
“I don’t want to be made love to, Neil,” she hissed, sliding her knee between his thighs and pressing herself against him, “I want to be fucked.”
He shivered slightly, and she revelled in that, pulling him against her. Cocking an eyebrow she started slowly picking apart the buttons on her own shirt, wondering how long it would take him to intervene and speed up the process. She was wagering by four buttons. He made it two.  
His fingers were deft and practiced as he slid her shirt off of her shoulders and dropped it onto the floor at their feet to pool beside his own. He took his own time studying her, eyes trailing up and down her body, a look in his eyes that suggested he was planning something filthy to do with every inch of it.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured absently.
She startled him by laughing, “We’re not in high school, Neil, you don’t have to butter me up with empty compliments.”
“I meant it,” he breathed, with such sincerity that she shivered.
He was so earnest, so genuine, so eager to please. She was going to wreck him.  
“Then prove it,” she breathed.
He put his hands underneath her and lifted her into his arms again but hesitated briefly, “You good?” he asked again, but there was a slight note of teasing in his voice.
“I’d be a lot better if you got on with it,” she said pointedly.
He carried her towards the bed, but she stopped him, suddenly frowning slightly. “Are you?”
A broad smile spread across his face before he covered it with another kiss, “Never better.”
He lowered her down gently onto the bed and then moved over her. He dipped down to kiss her again but she stopped him with a hand on his chest.
“I don’t intend to work under you here, either,” she said pointedly.
He smiled and nodded before relaxing and rolling obligingly onto his back. Damn, if she’d known he was going to be this eager to please she’d have fucked him years ago. And kept on fucking him for that matter.
She straddled him and ran her hands down his chest, stopping at the waistband of his trousers and starting to work them open, but he caught her wrists gently in his fingers, eyebrows raised.
“Don’t I get to have a little fun with you first before we dive in to you fucking me senseless?”
Well, at least he was prepared.
“What did you have in mind?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
In answer he coaxed her out of her trousers, leaving her in nothing but her underwear then tugged her further up the bed towards the headboard. She settled in front of him and watched him idly run his fingers over the front of her underwear, brushing suggestively over her in a way that made a muscle feather in her jaw.
“Neil,” she growled.
He laughed again, “So impatient,” he teased, “You’re a surgeon, Aud, you’re supposed to be able to maintain your focus and control even under the most testing of circumstances,” his fingers deftly nudged her underwear aside, pressing against hot, slick flesh and she hissed sharply.
“We’re not in the OR right now,” she reminded him, “But if you want I’ll go get a scalpel.”
“I want you out of these,” he breathed, tugging suggestively at the scrap of fabric between them, “And in my mouth.”
She actually groaned softly at that prospect. Lifting herself up she helped him tug off the last of her clothes then hovered over him, one hand braced on the wall behind him for leverage.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked, a little breathless.
In answer, he pulled her down onto his tongue.
She gasped softly, anchoring herself with one hand on the sturdy wooden headboard. At this rate, they were going to find out exactly how sturdy it was.
She let her eyes slip closed and rocked her hips against his mouth. He had definitely done this before, and she was glad she’d let him. She hadn’t needed it, not with ten years of friction and anticipation along with their rather intense session on the couch. But she wasn’t going to dissuade him from focusing all of his attention on her if that was what he wanted. It would’ve been rude.
With a soft hiss, she threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged gently, guiding him to exactly where she needed him. He was good, but he was unfamiliar with her body. Anyway, she liked steering.
She caught his eye as she shifted him into a better position and didn’t miss the twinkle of amusement in them that clearly said: You’re bossy.
She raised her eyebrows in a challenge and he smirked against her, giving her exactly what she needed.  
His eager obedience said enough: I like it.
Her back arched as he finally found the right rhythm and she gave his hair a short, sharp tug of approval which earned her a faint groan. If he was expecting shrieks of delight and repeated exclamations of his greatness in return he was going to be disappointed.
She was rarely vocal in bed - unless it was to give instruction, but he seemed to be doing just fine with the little guidance she’d already provided.
Neil didn’t seem to have expected anything else, and read her reactions eagerly in the changes of her breathing. Once she was panting, rocking into every movement of his mouth, nails scraping at his scalp, he knew she was close, and he didn’t disappoint.
“Don’t stop,” she snarled, holding him in place, even as she felt herself coming against his mouth. “Don’t stop.”
Mercifully he did as he was told, licking and sucking at her through her orgasm, tipping her into a second which finally coaxed a soft, hoarse, “Fuck,” from her.
Trembling, eyes still closed, she allowed Neil to place his hands on either side of her waist and help lower her back down over him, straddling his waist again.
Once she had control of her body again she dipped down and kissed him, tasting herself on his tongue.
“Not bad,” she said, grinning and breathing heavily.
He smirked back, one hand behind his head, the other rubbing slowly up and down her spine, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
She leaned down and kissed him again, “You have too many clothes on,” she grunted, pushing the last of his clothes from between them.
He didn’t object, and settled back down comfortably in place beneath her, eyes drinking her in like she was a particularly fine bottle of bourbon.
“Do you have-” she began.
“Top drawer.”
She leaned over, feeling him brace his hands instinctively on either side of her waist to stop her tumbling from the bed. She came up victorious, condom in hand, and tore the wrapper off with her teeth before easing it down onto him, enjoying the soft, hissing intake of breath it prompted.
“I hope you have as much self-control in bed as you do in the OR,” she purred lightly, sinking down onto him and enjoying the way he arched into her before she pushed him back down onto his bed. “Because I’m not nearly done with you yet.”
“I think I can manage,” he said, his muscles tight, but his expression composed. For now. “Can you?”
She grinned at him, “Just try to keep up.”  
He did. Mostly. He held onto her hips so hard she felt sure she’d have bruises, and gasped her name so often it started to sound like a prayer. But she came again, after dragging his hand in between her legs with a short, brusque command, and allowed him to follow just behind.
She slumped forwards, panting, head braced on his heaving chest, back bowed, eyes closed, breathing in the scents of sweat and sex that mingled in the air. Her body trembled, and she made a soft sound of pleasure in the back of her throat as he gently dragged his fingers up and down her spine.
Finally, she pushed herself off of him and collapsed down onto the sheets next to him, breathing hard, pushing her sweaty hair from her eyes.
She glanced to her right and found him watching her, eyes twinkling.
“Did we really just do that?” she said, staring up at the ceiling, pleasure still quivering through her.
“I think we did,” he said, sounding entirely too pleased with himself.
She’d have whacked that smug smile off his face with a pillow, but she felt too boneless and satisfied to expend that much effort right now.
“God we are such a cliche right now,” she said, shaking her head in mock-disgust, “Friends for a decade, then we get drunk and screw each other. We’re setting a terrible standard that men and women can’t just be friends with each other.”
“I’m going to be honest with you, I’m not that bothered right now,” he said.
She laughed a little breathlessly, “No, me neither,” she admitted, still grinning like an idiot.
“Besides,” he said, reaching over and stroking her shoulder, “We’ve always been more than friends.”
“Coworkers?” she ventured slyly, knowing damn well that wasn’t what he meant.
“Family,” he said sincerely, then grimaced as he clocked the look on her face.
“Nice sentiment,” she said, managing to prop herself up on an elbow to face him, “Terrible word choice under the circumstances.”
He shut her up with another kiss, which she melted into, still smirking. “You know what I meant,” he said as he drew away.
She drew in a deep breath and nodded, “Sure did.” She cocked her head slightly, smiling, “Are you this corny with all the people you fuck, or do you reserve it for family?” she said, laying a mocking emphasis on the last word that caused him to throw a pillow at her face in retribution.
She tossed it back at him, laughing. Then hauled herself up into a more dignified sitting position. “Are you good?” she asked, frowning slightly as she peered down at him, “I know I can be a little-”
He took her hand and squeezed, quieting her, “I’m good,” he reassured her, that sincere warmth in his voice again, “We’re good.”
“Good,” she said, nodding slightly. Then she took a deep breath and said, “I guess I should get going then.”
“What?” he said, looking taken aback, “Audrey, we’re not in college - I’m not kicking you out two minutes after we come,” he said, looking at her as though she’d gone mad.  
“You sure?” she said, not wanting him to build up any false expectations here, “I’m not exactly the ‘stay over and eat breakfast together in the morning’ kind of woman.”
“Did I fuck your brains out so much you’ve forgotten how long I’ve known you?” he demanded, causing her to roll her eyes.
“Cute.”
“I just mean,” he said, smiling and reaching for her hand, threading their fingers together to stop her pulling away, “That I’ve known you a while, and I figure I know what kind of woman you are by now.” She stared down at him and he smiled gently and said, “Stay. And sleep. That’s it. If for no other reason than to avoid taking another cab.”
“You do know me,” she grumbled, flopping back down beside him and pressing a lazy kiss to his lips. “Fine,” she said at last, “But I’m not spooning you.” He snorted with laughter. “And I sleep on this side of the bed,” she added firmly.
“Okay. Is that all? Or do you have a full terms and conditions package you need me to sign first?”
She threw her pillow at him and he wisely let it hit the stupidly large, smug grin on his face.
“Yes, I do,” she said, tartly, “It says ‘stop being an asshole’.”
He laughed again as she prised herself reluctantly from the inviting warmth and softness of the bed.
“Where are you going?” he demanded, pushing himself into a sitting position.
“For a shower, relax,” she replied, snatching up his shirt and draping it around her shoulders as she padded for the door.
She had just opened it when she heard him shift behind her, as she knew he would.
“Would you like an assist?” he asked quietly, stepping up behind her and sliding his arms around her waist, nuzzling gently at her neck.
“I would never say no to a second pair of hands.”
He grinned and she slipped her hand into his and tugged him out after her.
*************************************
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midnightiscoming-kasabian · 5 years ago
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Kasabian's Serge Pizzorno: 'Being pretentious is my number one fear'
Tim Jonze - www.theguardian.com - Photo: Neil Bedford
2 Sep 2019
He’s the lairy lad rocker who scored one of the best ever goals on TV – in winklepickers. Now he is aiming to be music’s answer to David Lynch
Serge Pizzorno is looking back at the rise of his band Kasabian and trying to pinpoint when it all became a bit too much.
“You’d turn up at shows and there’d be 20-odd trucks there, a catering team, loads of people everywhere,” he says. “And you’d think, wow, this is actually a job for a lot of people, and it all rests on these four maniacs!”
This was in 2017: the band had just completed their sixth album, For Crying Out Loud, released to mixed reviews, and all was not well in camp. After 20 years together, Pizzorno was worried the band were getting stuck in a rut. And then there was the personal turmoil: not for songwriter Pizzorno, who had settled into family life in Leicester (he has two boys, Ennio and Lucio), but for Tom Meighan, the band’s wild-eyed frontman.
Mimicking their idols Noel and Liam Gallagher, Pizzorno wrote the songs while Meighan brought the stage presence, preposterous quotes (“Our songs sound like we’ve shit ourselves 10,000 feet in the air”) and ludicrous tales. Band legend had it that, whenever Meighan became too much to handle, the other members had to take him to the nearest Toys R Us store to calm him down. But following a split from his partner, the relentlessly upbeat singer was struggling. He cried in one interview at the time.
“Tom’s still figuring things out, but he’s in a much better place now,” says Pizzorno when we meet for coffee in London. But it’s no wonder they needed time out. “I was worried we would get stale. Sometimes you need to go down the rabbit hole to refresh things.”
The SLP is that rabbit hole. It’s his initials – his full name is Sergio Lorenzo Pizzorno – and the name of his forthcoming solo album, recorded at his home studio, the Sergery (yes, really). With its guest appearances from Little Simz and Slowthai, and wild eclecticism, it’s reminiscent of Gorillaz – a cartoonish world constructed as an escape from the pressures of being in an enormous band.
Pizzorno sees it less as a new direction and more a return to the way he started off making music. Back then he was using an old Atari and a Midi keyboard; these days he’s been recording on his phone, stealing snippets from 70s Italian horror movies, “weird Polish shit”, and whatever grabs his attention when he’s out and about.
“I’ll be in Tokyo, hear the buzz of the electricity running through the pylons, and be like...” he waves his phone in the air, as if frantically trying to record the sound. “All my mates will be taking the piss. And even in my own head I’m thinking, ‘I’m never gonna use this.’ But this time I did.”
Indeed, the buzzing pylons make it into The Wu, an incredibly odd song about wandering through hotel corridors in search of the afterparty. It’s a case study in Pizzorno’s esoteric influences, from the South African disco label Heads and Lee “Scratch” Perry to the late Nigerian synth wizard William Onyeabor. Elsewhere there’s Mediterranean house (Nobody Else), mariachi meltdowns (Meanwhile … in the Welcome Break) and, in ((trance)), the kind of joyously anthemic track that wouldn’t sound out of place in, well, a Kasabian set.
Did the rest of the band not think: can’t we have a couple of these tunes? “It’s probably testament to why we’re still together that they didn’t mind,” says Pizzorno. “Tom understands that you need to explore what else is out there. Otherwise you become the band everyone expects you to be.”
The irony is that Kasabian have never been the band a lot of people think they are anyway. When they emerged in the early 00s, with electro-influenced rock anthems such as Clubfoot and LSF, they were stereotyped as lairy lad rockers, when in reality they were just as enamoured by hip-hop and acid house.
“On our first record I would wanna sit people down and go, ‘No, no, no – this is where we were fishing for that stuff, Can and Neu! or whoever. But whatever we said, the journalist would just ask us about the Happy Mondays. I soon realised it was best to just keep your mouth shut, because if you’re still able to make albums and art, who cares where it comes from anyway?”
I interviewed the band a few times back then and always found them far kinder and more erudite than they were portrayed (“On the road carnage with rock’s rowdiest band!” screamed one NME cover line). But it’s fair to say, with their wild tales and boasts, they played up to it.
Was the lad thing a bit of an act? “We knew that journalists wanted it,” says Pizzorno. “But at the same time, we did grow up where, if you wanted to be in a band, you had to have your wits about you. If you’re playing in a village pub in Leicester in front of a load of lads that would throw darts at your head for having long hair, you can either go in and be all art school, or you can snap a snooker cue in half and say, ‘Let’s go!’ But then I still wanted to get them in the corner and talk about Jodorowsky afterwards.”
Pizzorno’s lad-rock credentials were no doubt enhanced by two televisual moments: a goal on Soccer AM, in which he improbably flicked the ball up in the air while wearing winklepickers before volleying it into a tiny hoop; and an even better strike during the Soccer Aid charity match that saw him scoop the ball over former England keeper David Seaman’s head and into the top corner of the net. The mention of these acts of sporting glory makes Pizzorno groan: “You’ll work for ages on a piece of music or art that you’re really proud of. But kick a ball through a hole in an inflatable bouncy castle and it’s what you become known for.”
Come on though, which was his favourite goal? “With the Soccer AM one I’d been up all night, I was hanging. If I was sober I’d never have even tried it. But the [Soccer Aid] one … not only is it a great goal, but for five minutes after scoring it, I’ve never been more off my nut in my life. As a pure sledgehammer hit of adrenaline, it was insane. God knows what it would be like to score in a World Cup.”
Less impressive when it comes to lad stereotypes was a cover of Q magazine, on which Meighan and Pizzorno appeared alongside two naked ladies, something that even back in 2011 looked like a relic of a bygone era. Pizzorno groans again, but this time he means it. “That really kills me,” he says. “It was sold to us as Jimi Hendrix, Electric Ladyland, a celebration of 60s psychedelia. But we learned an important lesson there – we need to take control over every element.”
Pizzorno says the band have always been more inclusive than people give them credit for. “Art can be the start of something. At [Kasabian’s] gigs you only have to look at the first few rows to see there’s people from all over the world, with completely different views on how things should be done, but at least we’ve got them together.”
There’s a song on The SLP that addresses this, the final track Meanwhile … in the Silent Nowhere. “It’s about communication,” says Pizzorno. “Previously, even if you were rightwing or had extreme views, it felt like there could be some sort of dialogue where you could at least hear each other’s stories. Now it feels like, ‘This is my belief, fuck you’ ... there’s a danger in us not sitting down and talking face to face.”
What does he think of the current political situation? “It’s like Vegas. Fundamentally, the system is rigged and whatever you implement, the outcome will be the same. You’re probably talking revolution here but we need someone to come along and start again.” Is Jeremy Corbyn that person? “He’s the best shot we’ve got ... but I think there’s more. There’s someone else out there that can marry spirituality [with politics] and break the system and get us to start again somewhere better.” He laughs: “I think I’m just waiting for the messiah.”
Right now, Pizzorno has more pressing problems than the overthrow of capitalism: how to be a musician without Meighan by his side. He’s planned an impressive stage show, with different characters performing each song. It sounds ambitious. “But in a really minimal way,” he stresses. “Not overblown, the opposite to lasers and screens. It won’t be pretentious. Pretentious is my number one fear.”
Will there be costume changes? “Very subtle ones. There might be a hat. I might be barefoot. Fundamentally, I want it to be like a David Lynch thing, where people feel on edge, as if they’ve entered another world for 50 minutes.”
Pizzorno says he knows he can never compete with Kasabian’s enormous gigs – those gigantic, truck-bearing affairs with catering teams and staff everywhere. “But the aim is to get to that same euphoric point,” he says, “just in a whole new way.”
The SLP is out now. The tour starts on 5 September at Glasgow SWG3.
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erhiem · 3 years ago
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Promotora Gladys Lopez engages community members with a large Latino population on June 23 at the Crossroads Farmers Market bordering Tacoma Park and Langley Park, an area of ​​suburban Maryland.
Ian Morton / NPR
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Ian Morton / NPR
Promotora Gladys Lopez engages community members with a large Latino population on June 23 at the Crossroads Farmers Market bordering Tacoma Park and Langley Park, an area of ​​suburban Maryland.
Ian Morton / NPR
At 72 years old, Dolores Fontalvo is part friendly neighbor, part psychologist. He is also a linchpin in the state of Maryland’s successful attempt to narrow the vaccination gap between its white and Latino residents.
Fontalvo is one of dozens of volunteers Promoters — Literally, Health Promoters — with CASA, a Latino and immigration advocacy group. The job involves visiting high-traffic areas such as shopping malls and farmers markets in heavily Latino neighborhoods in DC’s Maryland suburbs, swinging her long ponytail and her eyes smiling behind a mask, as she spends her days passing by other Latino immigrants. Those who like her, speak mainly Spanish, to make sure they know where and when to get vaccinated against COVID-19.
These days, Fontalvo says, many people are eager for information or have already gotten their shots. But sometimes he has to face misinformation. “People hear negative rumors like, oh, there’s a microchip in the vaccine or that vaccines kill people,” Fontalvo tells me in Spanish.
His answer? “We have all been vaccinated and we are all healthy. Nothing has happened to us.”
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Promotora Dolores Fontalvo (right) says helping people in her community get out of bed every day. It includes people like Antonia Aquino (left), who, after surviving her bout of COVID-19, sought information to help her grandson get vaccinated.
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Maria Godoy / NPR
Promotora Dolores Fontalvo (right) says helping people in her community get out of bed every day. It includes people like Antonia Aquino (left), who, after surviving her bout of COVID-19, sought information to help her grandson get vaccinated.
Maria Godoy / NPR
In Maryland, as in the rest of the US, vaccination rates for Latinos have lagged behind rates for whites. But in recent weeks, several states have seen an increasing share of vaccines among Hispanics.
According to the Kaiser Family Foundation, as of last week, 50% of Maryland’s Latino population had received at least one dose of the COVID-19 vaccine, making it one of a handful of states to hit that milestone. And public health experts say the promotional model of community outreach has been key to Maryland’s success.
“When you can get the vaccine from someone in your community who you know and have a prior relationship with, you’re more likely,” says Neil Segal, MD, assistant professor of health policy at the University of Maryland School of Medicine. Public health that is studying the state’s response to the pandemic.
Casa campaigners have been combining that connection with the Latino community for decades with outreach on long-term issues like diabetes and HIV.
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Campaigners attend community members at the Crossroads Farmers Market on June 23.
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Campaigners attend community members at the Crossroads Farmers Market on June 23.
Ian Morton / NPR
Fontalvo has been operating for almost 18 years. She says she often encounters people who suffer because of lack of support. I first noticed this one day in June, when a woman named Antonia Aquino approached Fontalvo outside a Latino grocery store in Langley Park, MD, asking where she could send her grandson for a shot. Suddenly, Aquino started crying as she recalled her own battle with COVID-19 last year, which hospitalized her.
“I said goodbye to my kids. I lost my job,” Aquino told Fontalvo. She said she now faces a pile-up of unpaid bills, nowhere to turn for help – and that she wants to see her grandchildren safe. Fontalvo comforts Aquino, encourages him to look better in the days ahead, then gives him his phone numbers to call for financial and mental health support.
During the pandemic, CASA promoters have provided such vital support to a left-wing community, says Dr. Michele LaRue, director of health and human services at Casa.
“Our community has suffered not only from COVID but also from all the social consequences that come with COVID, hence financial insecurity due to housing, food insecurity, job loss or cut hours,” says LaRue.
She says promoters helped spread the word about how to prevent COVID-19 and where to get tested. He also connected people with much-needed resources like food and rent assistance. And soon enough, CASA recruited promoters to participate in the COVID vaccine trials.
“We use it to promote vaccines,” LaRue says. “So we know for a fact that this vaccine works on us, and tries to bridge some of the trust issues that our community may have.”
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Promoter Cindy Escobar says she began volunteering with CASA after seeing misinformation and a lack of information about COVID-19 vaccinations spreading in her community.
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Promoter Cindy Escobar says she began volunteering with CASA after seeing misinformation and a lack of information about COVID-19 vaccinations spreading in her community.
Ian Morton / NPR
But it’s not just issues that explain vaccination differences among Latinos, says Samantha Artiga, vice president and director of racial equity and health policy at the Kaiser Family Foundation. She says Latinos have faced many barriers to vaccination. Many don’t have paid time off work, transportation or internet savvy.
“Some people worry about getting the vaccine in terms of negative consequences on immigration status,” notes Ertiga. She says surveys have found large information gaps between Hispanic adults on where to get the vaccine and whether they are eligible, as well as language barriers.
Cindy Escobar, 24, has been working as a promoter for a few months now. She says she decided to take a job after getting vaccinated and found herself fielding friends and family to see where they too could go. “That pushed me into this, wanting to help them,” she says.
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Promotora engages members of the community at the Ana Parada Crossroads Farmers Market.
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Promotora engages members of the community at the Ana Parada Crossroads Farmers Market.
Ian Morton / NPR
When Maryland formed its Vaccine Equity Task Force in February to help address some of these issues, it turned to CASA and its promoters, says Brigadier General Janine Birkhead, who heads the task force. Huh. She says the task force is based in the DC suburbs of Maryland because the Latino population there was so badly affected by COVID, and it wanted to capitalize on the trust that CASA had already built.
Birkhead says that promoters have played an important role in increasing the reach of the vaccine. Not only do they get the word out, they also help staff bilingual clinics in neighborhoods with large Latino populations that are open hours and late so people can go after work.
“This is the groundwork that we have to continue to do to get into the community,” Birkhead says. “Trusted voice, someone you know or someone you can trust, and they’re bringing you the message about the vaccine.”
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Gladys Lopez has been doing outreach as Promotora for more than a decade. A Colombian native, she says she knows how difficult it can be to navigate life in America for immigrants like herself without English skills. She says that’s why the work she does matters.
Ian Morton / NPR
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Ian Morton / NPR
Gladys Lopez has been doing outreach as Promotora for more than a decade. A Colombian native, she says she knows how difficult it can be to navigate life in America for immigrants like herself without English skills. She says that’s why the work she does matters.
Ian Morton / NPR
Sehgal of the University of Maryland says the Promotora model is increasingly being used elsewhere, including in Southern California. But the way Maryland’s CASA program works — with its strong partnerships with community clinics, county leaders and the state Vaccine Equity Task Force — stands out.
“At the national level I think Casa and Casa’s partners are really leading the way,” he says.
He would like to see expanded government support for the Promotora model beyond the pandemic to tackle other health disparities.
Promotora Dolores Fontalvo says she will be ready. She says helping people is what gets her out of bed every day. When I ask her how long she plans to stay at work, she tells me, “Until my body wears out.”
The post How ‘Promotoras’ Are Helping Maryland Close The Latino Vaccination Gap : Shots appeared first on Spicy Celebrity News.
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ophirgottlieb · 7 years ago
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Surprise: Apple is Crushing It After All
Apple, iPhone, super, quarter, data,earnings
Surprise: Apple is Crushing It After All
Date Published: 2018-02-27 Written by Ophir Gottlieb This is a snippet from a CML Pro dossier published on 2-26-2018. LEDE Apple just reported the single largest quarterly after tax profits ever, and generally beat estimates for earnings, but the guidance for the current quarter was less than stellar and its booming Services business boomed, but did not KABOOM, and that was reason for some worry. New data surrounding the iPhone's dominance has been releases, and while the "super cycle" didn't come in volume, my goodness, it has come in terms of dollars. STORY We added Apple to Top Picks on 2-Jan-16 for $104.15. As of this writing it is trading at $175.50, or 68% higher. We did a thorough write up of the earnings release as it came out, and you can refer to that dossier here: Must Know: Apple Earnings Review. But it is the latest number crunching from two analytics firms that pushed Apple higher last week, and may see it test that all-time high yet again. Let's get to the data. SURPRISE: IT IS A SUPER CYCLE Apple did something very odd with its iPhone X super phone -- it held it back. The company first released the iPhone 8, and delayed its release of the $1,000 phone. That was hotly contested and it was a huge risk. Analysts still disagree about the outcome, even though the outcome is now an observable fact (we saw sales and earnings). The idea that consumers would pay up more than $1,000 for a phone was risky, and it was yet riskier to let people "opt out" by just going with iPhone 8. But, the real movement for Apple last quarter was the astonishing rise in its average selling price (ASP) per iPhone. Here is a chart:
I don't know why BI decided to use a line chart rather than a bar chart, but let's let the non math people do as they will -- the data is what we want and the broken trend is still easy to see. This cycle (quarter) saw a huge pop out of a pretty tight range. The big jump is because of the $999 super-premium iPhone X, which costs nearly $240 more than the iPhone 7 Plus, which was previously Apple's most expensive phone. CEO Tim Cook said:
Honestly speaking, there's no comparison in the revenue, it's hugely different. In a positive way, obviously.
SO WHAT? Counterpoint Research Director Neil Shah shared some new data and it reads pretty crazy.
The $1,000 smartphone—along with iPhone 8 and iPhone 8 Plus—helped propel Apple (AAPL) to a commanding 76% of smartphone revenue in North America and 57% in Europe.
Then Strategy Analytics came out with more data. According to the firm, Apple has taken more than half of the global smartphone revenues for Q4 of 2017. "Apple iPhone captured a record 51 percent share of all smartphone wholesale revenues." And then we got the real data (our emphasis added): * Apple’s smartphone revenue was seven times higher than its second competitor, Samsung, and seven times more than Huawei. * The iPhone's $800 ASP is three times the industry average. * Samsung’s ASP grew 21%, sitting at $254. And while reports have come out that Apple might ditch the iPhone X, the famed Ming-Chi Kuo of KGI Securities actually went the other way claiming that Apple was going to launch an iPhone X Plus. Yes, a larger, yet more expensive phone. For the record, KGI also carefully noted that Apple has not made a final decision and certainly has not made an official announcement. CONCLUSION Wall Street wanted an iPhone super cycle, and that meant volume. Well, volume beat expectations, but then was lowered for this quarter's guidance, but revenue, that is in a super cycle. And that super cycle has given Apple all kinds of absurd statistics relative to its competitors, from size to market share. For now, the arguments can stop -- Apple had a super cycle -- it was in revenue, and that led to the largest single quarter of earnings ever by a public company. Apple beat another mega cap's record... Apple. And it also dethroned the number three spot, which was... Apple. As for the weaker than expected guidance, we could also just listen to Tim Cook, you know, the CEO, when he said on the earnings call: "iPhone revenue will grow double-digits as compared to last year during the March quarter. And that iPhone sell-through growth on a year-over-year basis will be actually accelerating during the March quarter as compared to the December." We also note that the all-time high in ASP was also a poke in the eye of analysts that said people would not spring for the super expensive iPhone X — wrong. iPhone X was the bestselling iPhone every week it was out. SEEING THE FUTURE It's understanding technology that gets us an edge on finding the gems that can turn into the 'next Apple,' or 'next Microsoft,' where we must get ahead of the curve. This is what CML Pro does. The precious few thematic top picks for 2018, research dossiers, and alerts are available for a limited time at an 80% discount for $19/mo. Join Us: Discover the undiscovered companies that will power technology's future. As always, control risk, size appropriately and use your own judgement, aside from anyone else’s subjective views, including my own. Thanks for reading, friends. The author is long shares of Apple Inc at the time of this writing. Legal The information contained on this site is provided for general informational purposes, as a convenience to the readers. The materials are not a substitute for obtaining professional advice from a qualified person, firm or corporation. Consult the appropriate professional advisor for more complete and current information. Capital Market Laboratories (“The Company”) does not engage in rendering any legal or professional services by placing these general informational materials on this website. The Company specifically disclaims any liability, whether based in contract, tort, strict liability or otherwise, for any direct, indirect, incidental, consequential, or special damages arising out of or in any way connected with access to or use of the site, even if we have been advised of the possibility of such damages, including liability in connection with mistakes or omissions in, or delays in transmission of, information to or from the user, interruptions in telecommunications connections to the site or viruses. The Company make no representations or warranties about the accuracy or completeness of the information contained on this website. Any links provided to other server sites are offered as a matter of convenience and in no way are meant to imply that The Company endorses, sponsors, promotes or is affiliated with the owners of or participants in those sites, or endorse any information contained on those sites, unless expressly stated.
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forestwater87 · 7 years ago
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Nature Family
@ciphernetics did a very very good thing and came up with the best AU idea ever.
I ruined it. Enjoy the ruining.
“David?”
He glanced up, his eyes widening. “Yes, Nikki?”
She was one of the only campers left waiting at the pick-up spot, having wandered away from Max to explore a mysterious rustling from the bushes. (This, it turned out, was a squirrel; Quartermaster seemed more than capable of sorting it out and had pulled her away from the animal by her overalls.) But . . . Well, David had to admit that he'd been so worried about Max being lonely or upset about the summer ending that he'd almost forgotten about the adventurous young camper. So it was with no small amount of guilt that he met her  eyes, watching anxiously as she scuffed her toes along the ground and glanced over her shoulder at Sleepy Peak Peak.
“Well, uh . . . I think my parents aren't coming?”
David sprang to his feet, leaving Max to continue drawing in the dirt and ignoring him. “Don't be silly! It's only noon, after all! And Max is still here,” he added, gesturing at him.
Max looked from David to Nikki, something almost like concern in his expression. “David, are you being fucking stupid again?” He stood, pouring as much resentment into the motion as possible. “What's up, Nik?”
She shrugged, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “It’s just that Mom said Dad was picking me up yesterday because of his Sunday Golf Tournaments, and he didn’t. So . . .”
“What?!” David tried to keep his voice calm, but he couldn’t help wincing as it leapt up to what Gwen called “dog-whistle levels.” “Wh . . . why didn’t you tell us that, Nikki?” As a matter of fact, why hadn’t her parents told them that? They were in charge, after all!
“I was gonna, but then Max and Neil decided to try and blow up the Supply Shed and that sounded like more fun!”
Oh, dear. David whipped out his phone and sent a quick text to Quartermaster and Gwen: ‘stay away from the supply shed might be dangerous’ Then he narrowed his eyes at the two of them, putting his hands on his hips. “Now, kids, that was very irresponsible of you --”
“Yeah yeah,” Max interrupted, rolling his eyes. “How about you just do your goddamn job and figure out where Nikki’s parents are?”
Oh. Of course, that made sense. “R-right. Thanks, Max!”
“Fucking idiot.”
He had all the campers’ parents saved in his contacts for easy access, just in case. So he didn’t have to leave their side as he looked up Mariana Zuckerman’s number and listened to the line ring.
And ring.
And ring.
Finally there was a tiny click. “You’ve reached 555-0175. Dr. Zuckerman isn’t available right now, so please leave a message at the --”
He snapped the phone shut, shaking his head. “No worries,” he chirped to the kids; Nikki was watching a line of ants travel through the grass, but Max’s eyes were trained on him, tiny pinpricks of searing turquoise. “We’ll just try Mr. Sherwood then . . .”
Nikki’s dad didn’t pick up, either.
That was . . . well, of course it wasn’t troubling, David wouldn’t jump to conclusions so quickly! But he would have to give her parents a friendly reminder that it was important to have their phones on them at all times. 
Then again, maybe they were driving. That made sense.
“Why didn’t they pick up?” Max demanded, startling David out of his thoughts and nearly making him drop the phone.
“Oh, I’m sure they’re on their way!”
He just stared for a few long moments. Then turned with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “I’m gonna go find Gwen.”
“Max, don’t --” But it was too late; faster than he’d ever seen the boy move, Max was trotting across the small grassy clearing that served as Camp Campbell’s pick-up spot, over to where Gwen had her nose buried in a magazine about . . . something or other, he didn’t really understand most of what she read.
Maybe Max had the right idea, though. Gwen would know what to do, even if she was a bit of a worrywart. He straightened, feeling better already as he tried dialing Nikki’s mother again. There was no point in panicking, which meant he’d just ignore the niggling worming sickness in his stomach until it went away.
That usually worked.
“You’ve reached 555-0175. Dr. Zucker --”
“David.” He glanced up from his fifth failed attempt to get ahold of either of Nikki’s parents to see Gwen, her phone clutched in white knuckles. Max hovered at her elbow, glancing between them and where Nikki had fallen asleep in the grass. Gwen held her phone out to him, her hand shaking slightly. “Look at this.”
The screen was a news site. Spectrum News: Capital Region -- oh, she’d looked up Nikki’s hometown paper! That was clever of her. He opened his mouth to congratulate her when his eyes landed on a picture of a woman with hair the color of creamy coffee, the only resemblance to her daughter in their large pink eyes.
Then the headline: “Rensselaer Woman Dies in Auto Crash on I-87 N.”
Then the date: August 19th, 2016.
Then the first sentence: “Dr. Marianna Zuckerman, 35, passed away at 8:15 p.m. on Friday evening in an accident . . .”
“Oh no. Gwen . . .” His vision blurring, he looked over at Nikki, who’d started pawing at the air and growling in her sleep. “Poor Nikki.”
“It’s, um . . .” She cleared her throat, her voice roughening the way it only did when she was trying not to cry, and scrolled down the story a bit. “It’s . . . her dad, too.”
“How?” Shaking his head to dismiss the dumb question, he turned to the story. Dr. Zuckerman had been on her way to Ellis Hospital to visit Norman Sherwood, who’d been admitted that afternoon for a heart attack. “They are survived by their daughter, Nicole Ellen Sherwood . . .” “What do we do, Gwen?”
“I . . . fuck.” She pressed a fist to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. “Okay, okay,” she muttered. “First we gotta call the hospital, make sure this shit’s real. Then, uh . . . the police?”
David nodded, feeling his heart rate slow as Gwen traced out a plan. “That’s a good idea. I’ll call Sal. Would you . . .” He trailed off as she nodded, taking her phone back and tapping at it rapidly. “Thanks.”
“You’ve gotta tell her.” The voice startled them both, and they both looked down at Max. He was glaring up at them, his hands clenched into fists and his lips trembling just slightly. “You can’t just sit here and make plans and not tell her, like this isn’t about her, like . . . like . . .”
“It’s okay, Max,” Gwen said, putting a hand nervously on his shoulder; he jerked away, turning his murderous gaze to the ground instead and scrubbing at his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie. “We’re going to get all of this sorted out, and then we’ll talk to her. But we want to make sure we have all the facts first.” Her voice was soothing, a tone he’d never heard her take with Max before. “How about we just let her sleep for right now, okay?”
He just growled and stalked away, over to where Nikki had rolled onto her side. For a second David thought he was going to wake her, but to his surprise Max just plopped onto the grass next to her, shoving his hands in his hoodie and watching her run in her sleep.
“He’s a good kid,” Gwen finally murmured, pulling them both to the tasks at hand. “Guess you were right, David.”
Despite himself, he managed a weak smile. It wasn’t often his coworker had something nice to say about the campers, after all -- or about him, for that matter. “I’m glad he’s here, so she’s not alone when . . .” He cut off, turning his attention to the number for the local police (he had them saved on his speedial).
Now wasn’t the time to be sad for Nikki.
Now, they had to take care of her.
“Dead?” Nikki cocked her head to the side, her nose wrinkling. “Like they’re not coming to pick me up?”
David glanced nervously at Gwen. Nikki was only nine years old, of course, but he’d expected her to understand the whole concept of death a bit more than this. “I’m . . . afraid not.”
“Oh.” She looked down at her shoes thoughtfully. Then her head snapped up, her eyes widening and a grin spreading across her face. “Does this mean I get to be raised by wolves?!”
“Um . . .” Before he could come up with an answer she’d rushed off toward the trees, howling like she could just summon a wolf pack that very instant. (Which . . . maybe she could. He’d seen her do more impossible things.)
“It’s shock,” Gwen explained quietly, as they watched her drop to her hands and knees and start sniffing at the ground. “I think she’s processing it the best she can.”
It didn’t look like she was processing at all, but David could hardly blame her. “Now what?”
“Now I make another thirty billion phone calls.”
“David!” He turned to see Max dragging his parents over to them, nearly tripping over himself in his hurry. “Where’s Nikki? Mom and Dad are here to take her home.”
Rey Sahni sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in a move that was uncannily similar to his son. “Max, it’s not that we don’t want to help your friend, but it’s not that simple. She’ll need --”
“She needs fucking parents, Dad!” he insisted, crossing his arms over his chest. “She can stay in Kayla’s room.”
Max’s mother knelt down so she was at eye level, running a hand through his hair tenderly. “Sweetie, of course we’ll have Nikki visit as soon as things are sorted out, but first --”
“We can afford it! It’s not like you guys didn’t want another kid, anyway.” He glanced over at Nikki, who’d climbed into a tree and was stalking a chipmunk. “She’s weird, but she’ll be way less of a pain in the ass than Kayla or me.”
His father let out a long, weary sigh. “It’s not like picking up a stray dog, Max.”
“It’s exactly like picking up a stray dog! She even sniffs butts sometimes!”
“She needs to live with her family.” Max’s mother looked up at David. “Have you heard from her guardian?”
Gwen sighed, returning to his side in time to hear this question. “I’ve been talking to . . . everyone, it feels like,” she said with a sigh. “She doesn’t have any family. Sal says she’ll probably have to go into foster care or something.”
“Then we can foster her!” Max turned to his parents again, clenching his hands into fists. His eyes were just the tiniest bit shiny, and David realized with shock that this was the first time he’d ever seen Max close to crying. “Please. She’s one of my best friends.”
His mother’s hands were over her mouth, and his father turned to David with a helpless shrug. “We can’t . . .”
“I understand, Mr. Sahni.” David bent down until his eyes were at level with Max’s. “Listen, we’re gonna make sure Nikki’s fine, okay, Max?”
He just pulled away, turning his back on all of them with a quiet “fuck you” and stomping over to Nikki.
David straightened with a sigh. “He’ll . . .” But there was no way to end that sentence, so he didn’t bother trying. “They’ve gotten close.”
He stumbled through the necessary pleasantries, not fully aware of what he was saying and more than happy to let Gwen take over being the adult for a few minutes. He couldn’t stop watching the kids: Max as he paced back and forth in front of Nikki, raging at something they couldn’t hear. Nikki, who was laughing and tossing pinecones in the hood of Max’s sweatshirt every time he stalked past her.
Until her smile faltered.
Her hand fell to her chest, curling in the light yellow fabric of her shirt. Her eyes landed on Max’s parents, huddled by the car and whispering anxiously with their eyes following Max’s every movement with concern and exasperation and undeniable love.
When Max finally stuttered to a stop and pulled her into a brusque, almost-violent hug, it was the least-energetic David had ever seen Nikki. When Max pulled away, looking embarrassed and furious at nothing in particular, her smile was small and wobbly as she waved away his muttered . . . somethings. Whatever it was, it was between the two of them.
When the Sahni’s car disappeared down the mountain, she drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees and staring at nothing.
“Adopting her would take a lot of work, you know.”
David jumped at Gwen’s voice, chuckling nervously. “What’re you talking about?”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “You’re not hard to read, Greenwood,” she said. “You have puppy-dog eyes.”
He swallowed, his throat tickling and tight. “I just want to help.”
“Do you even know all the legal bullshit you’d have to go through?” When he didn’t reply, she sighed and pulled out her phone again.
“What are you --” he began, but Gwen cut him off with a raised finger.
“Hey, Dree. Yeah, I haven’t left yet. Listen, I’m gonna be staying up here for a couple weeks. There’s kinda been a . . . emergency? I can explain later. Like, maybe a month. I know, I know, they’ll kill me. That’s why I want you to tell them, sis.” She shook her head with a quiet laugh. “No, I’ve got nothing to get fired from. If they wanna send money up . . . Yeah, I figured.” She gave him a small, hesitant smile. “No, it’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it. Thanks, love you.” She hung up, pocketing her phone without meeting his eyes. “Okay, this is fine. We’ll get it sorted out.”
“I . . . what just happened?”
She punched his shoulder, harder than was strictly necessary. “Come on, I’m not gonna let you fuck this up just because you suck at paperwork.”
“Thank you, Gwen.”
She shrugged, glancing back toward where the Campmobile was waiting. “Don’t thank me. I’ll be the one crashing on your couch. Anyway, Sal wants us to be at the station to . . . god, I don’t even remember, I’ve talked to too many fucking people today, it’s all running together.” She rubbed her forehead with the pads of her fingers and started toward the car, tossing over her shoulder, “Go get your wild child, daddy.”
“Please never call me that again.”
Gwen turned, flashing him a quick grin. “Nature daddy?”
“Absolutely not!” But his heart was just the tiniest bit lighter as he crossed over to where Nikki was sitting, crouching down in front of her.
“I don’t wanna be raised by wolves,” she whispered into her knees. Her eyes were huge and wet and dark, and it was against every rule in the Employee Handbook but David wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug, because there were things he wasn’t strong enough to resist and this was one of them. She clung to his shirt with hands that felt like claws, her tears burning through his shirt and making his own eyes sting.
“It’s okay,” he kept murmuring, rubbing her back because he didn’t know what else to do. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”
He wasn’t exactly sure how he’d keep that promise, but damned if he wasn’t gonna die trying.
“I can’t fucking believe this.” Max groaned, laying back in the grass and frowning up at the sky. “All the people you could’ve gotten stuck with and you picked David?”
Nikki laughed, picking at a dandelion and shredding the stem, smearing the milky-sticky fluid across her fingers. “He’s not that bad,” she said. “He takes me on hikes a lot. And he said we might be able to get a dog this year!”
“You wanted to be raised by wolves and got yourself adopted by a fucking puppy. Christ, Nikki.” He rolled onto his stomach so he could better glare at her, brushing his floppy dark hair out of his face. “It was bad enough having to see him every summer, now I have to deal with him whenever I wanna visit you, too?”
“Good thing I’m awesome enough to be worth it, huh, Max?” She laughed as he threw a handful of grass at her, shaking the dirt out of her hair and flopping onto her back. “Thanks for coming all the way up here.”
“Thank Neil, he’s the one whose parents drove us.” He sat up slightly, peering back toward a small, ivy-covered apartment building. “The fuck did he go, anyway?”
Nikki frowned. “I dunno. Maybe David kidnapped him and is trying to teach him knitting again.” She leapt to her feet, bouncing up on the balls of her toes and then rocking back onto her heels. “Let’s rescue him!”
Max rolled his eyes, but climbed to his feet anyway. “Sounds like an adventure,” he said sarcastically, smirking as she let out a warrior whoop and broke into a sprint.
David’s apartment was tiny, but filled to burst with . . . well, Max would call it “David bullshit.” Lots of embroidery and knitting, lots of framed motivational posters, lots of cute kitschy things that belonged in the home of a grandmother. But there were touches of Nikki, too, in the squirrel skull on the mantel, the Xbox under the television, the pictures on the wall: her half-buried under a fish as tall as she was, her next to a fire that she looked way too proud of not to have lit herself, sitting on David’s shoulders in a tree (that looked fucking safe).
Max hated to admit it, but . . . it made sense. Terrible, obnoxious sense, but sense nonetheless.
Neil was sitting at the kitchen table, watching Gwen and David argue over something that was bubbling on the stove. Nikki threw herself into the chair next to him. “What gives, Neil? Where’d you go?”
“Let’s see, heat stroke and bugs or watching idiots try to figure out how to make soup,” he replied, dryly, resting his cheek in one hand. “Guess which I thought sounded more fun.”
Gwen turned around just long enough to flip him off, earning a scandalized cry from David.
“The fuck is she even doing here, anyway?” Max asked. He was talking to Nikki, but he spoke loud enough for the adults to hear. “Exhausted all the nonexistent job opportunities in America and had to leave the country?”
“Suck a dick, Max.” (“Gwen!”)
Nikki shrugged. “She moved in to help David figure out the adoption stuff, and then just kinda . . . stayed.”
“David’s an idiot. He needed extra help.” She turned to roll her eyes at Max. “These two almost kill themselves twice a week.”
David pouted. “I think we’re doing just fine!”
“You tried to raise wolverines. In the apartment.”
“It could’ve worked!” When she just sighed and shook her head, his smile softened. “Well, we certainly appreciate it, Gwen.”
“Yeah! She made him let us buy video games!” Nikki leaned in, grinning like she was about to impart the location of a secret treasure. “Violent video games!”
“I’m still not very happy about that, by the way.”
“For fuck’s sake, it was one scene! It’s not like the rest of the game was like that!”
“Yes it was!”
“You’re not helping, Nikki.”
Max snorted, sitting back and watching them argue.
He had to admit, things could’ve ended up worse.
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The Epidemic of Over-Explaining Science Fiction
What is wrong with this scene?
Think about this question for a while, because there is a lot wrong with this scene. While the Wachowski siblings did set a precedent for these kind of overly verbose scenes in the first Matrix film, with Morpheus explaining the intricacies of the matrix and the real world, this scene from The Matrix Reloaded perfectly presents the mistake many science fiction films make.
Science fiction is a form of fiction which utilizes fantastic themes, and ideas, which are based on some sort of scientific platform. This includes stories that deal with subjects like time travel, space, futuristic cities, parallel universes, aliens, robot sentience, and much more. As you can imagine, these themes and stories are incredibly complex, intricate, and difficult to pull apart in the context of a 90 to 120 minute film.
The Matrix trilogy is telling the story of Neo, and utilizing religious imagery, and metaphors, to tell a story -- none of this is necessarily subtle. But, at its core, the Matrix films are science fiction films -- the premise of these films are based around a war between robots and humans.
So you've thought about the question that I opened this with; let's return to it. What is wrong with this scene?
In my mind, the existence of this scene is the problem.
As I mentioned before, these themes are incredibly complex. Explaining them within the confines of a relatively short runtime would be futile; films that push the limits of theatrical runtimes (The Matrix being one of them (the trilogy clocks in at 409 minutes in total, or roughly 6.7 hours). So why do writers and directors constantly try to explain their film to the audience? If it is extremely difficult to explain the small details of a sci-fi theme, why try and do it with a scene of expository dialogue?
It's not just The Matrix that suffers from this, as you can imagine. A wide array of modern science-fiction films fall into this trip of over-explaining their plot, or the 'scientific' aspect of their narrative.
This scene from Source Code also helps exemplify what I'm talking about.
The explanation of what "the source code" is doesn't add much to the plot of the film. It only clarifies the scientific aspect of the film, while wasting three minutes in the process. While three minutes may not seem like a lot, when you put it in the context of the film's 93 minute runtime, that's 3% of the film dedicated to a scene which doesn't do much to benefit the film itself. In fact, the majority of the information in this scene is information we, as viewers, are already aware of. 
So essentially what we have in Source Code, like we have in The Matrix Reloaded, like we have in a variety of science-fiction films, is a relatively large portion of the runtime dedicated to just explaining the "science-ey" stuff, if you will, in the plot.
What fun is that? What benefit does that offer us? And, most importantly, why do writers do it?
Let's start with that last question first: why do writers do it? 
There are a number of reasons why writers over-explain elements of their film -- this is true across all genres, not just in science fiction. This comes down to one of three things (or a mix of them):
1. Bad screenwriting habits
The first one is the easiest to dissect: everyone starts out somewhere. It's possible that the screenwriter is either very new to screenwriting, or that they are in the habit of relying on poor screenwriting tricks to tell their story (i.e. using flashbacks to explain plot information, using narration to explain expository details, etc.). This can be fixed with consistent writing, reading screenplays from a variety of writers, and getting constructive criticism on current work.
I recently watched a film called Uncanny, which is available on Netflix, that displays this kind of a amateur reliance on expositional dialogue to explain its scientific narrative. You can even see this in its trailer.
I am even guilty of this with my films. It can be hard, especially with dialogue, to strike a balance between intriguing and clear. You don't want to lose your audience, but you also want to make sure your dialogue is unique, well-written, and crisp. This is difficult to do without practice; that is, both for better and for worse, the only solution to this specific problem.
2. A lack of trust in the target audience
This is a very big part of why so many films, and so many science-fiction films, are being excessively explained. Put simply, writers don't trust you -- or, at least, they don't trust you to understand their themes, or their narrative, without explicit clarity.
This can be seen all throughout big Hollywood films. In an effort to make the most money, and to cater to the widest demographic possible (filmmaking is a business, after all), it is not uncommon for writers to overly-clarify something, especially when it comes to dialogue, so their is no confusion as to what is going on. This is true of films I love, too.
Christopher Nolan is the perfect example of a writer/director (though his brother is often the credited writer on many projects) whose dialogue is unusually on-the-nose and expository. His films are enjoyable, and I find myself consistently impressed with their ambition, and his penchant for cerebral spectacle. However, no one could ever call Christopher Nolan subtle with a straight face.
The same is true of directors like Neil Blomkamp. District 9 is an incredible sci-fi film, and yet it opens with the most boring, expositional scene that is completely devoid of any subtlety. It uses the documentary style for realism, but imparts the same information scrolling text, narration, or dialogue would. In this way, it's not really doing anything different.
There is no real solution to this, because this is most noticeable in high budget films. That means that this problem is intrinsically linked with the final one.
3. Pressure from studios, producers, or financiers
Every filmmaker takes marching orders from someone, and everything in the film business is based around profit. Therefore, a lot of this insistence on clarity and expositional dialogue can be traced back to studios, producers, and financiers.
A studio's, and a producer's, goal is to market their film to a demographic that will make them money, and to invest on projects which will return, and capitalize on, said investment. That is why so many horror films are full of jump-scares and immediate thrills -- that's what audiences want to see right now, and that's what they pay for. That's why superhero films have become as popular as they are, and why so many actors, directors, and producers are jumping into bed with Marvel and DC -- these kinds of films make money, and tons of it.
So, in some respect, it's not surprising that sci-fi films are being over-explained; to get the widest audience possible, you need your material to be widely accessible. If you confuse your viewer, or require that they think about your film after the credits roll, you will lose money.
Hollywood has never been shy about this fact. What is surprising, though, is the widespread acceptance of these kinds of overt explanations, and the rejection of anything that is different, or less-than-overt.
Just compare this scene from the 2016 film, Midnight Special, and any of the other scenes I have presented you with.
Why is he wearing goggles? Why is his dad so forceful with protecting him? Why are their meteors falling to Earth? Why is the child apologizing for it?
This one scene produces so many questions, and yet it refuses to answer any of them. Why? Because the answers aren't important. What is important is that we understand that the kid has some sort of powers, that his father is protecting him from the world, and that they are going somewhere.
Yet none of the above is mentioned explicitly. Except for the ending of the phone call, where Michael Shannon's character says "we'll be there soon", the rest of this information is imparted through tone of voice, the juxtaposition of dialogue and imagery, and editing.
Midnight Special remains like this throughout its runtime. It refuses to answer the simple questions that it seems to raise, and instead does what all great sci-fi stories do: it tells a humanistic story with the backdrop of a fantastical scientific setting.
The critics loved the film, giving it a 76/100 on Metascore, and an 84% on Rotten Tomatoes. So why don't films like this get made very often, especially today? Well, because Midnight Special only made $3.7 million of its $18 million budget back, has a 6.7/10 rating on IMDB, and a 67% audience rating from Rotten Tomatoes. In other words, these films aren't made because they don't make money, and because audiences don't want to see them.
What do audiences want to see? They want to see films like The Martian, which has a 8.0/10 rating on IMDB, a 91% on Rotten Tomatoes. Why do producers want to fund movies like The Martian? Because The Martian made 211% of its budget back at the box office.
I know what you're thinking: "does The Martian have a scene similar, or the same as, the other examples provided?" You bet your ass it does.
Now, I want to grant a couple of things, and, ironically enough, clarify some others.
Firstly, just because a film tends to placate its viewer with palatable metaphors and physical demonstrations, or a ton of dialogue from a character whose only purpose is to explain the film doesn't mean that the film will be bad. I like The Martian, and Interstellar, and many other science-fiction films that have come out, both from Hollywood and from the independent scene. Films are more about the sum of their parts than they are about any specific, individual aspects.
Secondly, with films about space travel or aliens (especially in our current era), there will always be a scene where an organization like NASA has to be involved; because of this, it's guaranteed there will be this kind of dialogue, both to assert the realism of the scenes, and to help clue in the viewer.
However, I do want to posit this notion: are these additions -- the continuous clarification, and explanation of science-fiction narratives -- beneficial to the respective stories as a whole?
Compare the opening of the 2011 film Melancholia to any science-fiction film you've seen recently. Melancholia's opening eight minutes has no dialogue, and no attempts at explanation. And yet, you understand exactly what is happening on a global scale, and you get an intrinsically unique, and intimate, understanding of specific characters.
Compare any of the "explanation" scenes I've described above with the ending scene sequence from Kubrick's masterpiece 2001: A Space Odyssey (complete with the Pink Floyd track "Echoes" synced to the action).
This is twenty-three minutes of perfection, of science-fiction at its finest, most profound, and most beautiful. And yet it offers the viewer no dialogue, no explanations, and little coherence beyond what you are able to glean from the imagery, and the editing. Furthermore, Kubrick refused to explain the ending of the film.
"2001 is a nonverbal experience; out of two hours and nineteen minutes of film, there are only a little less than forty minutes of dialog. I tried to create a visual experience, one that bypasses verbalized pigeonholing and directly penetrates the subconscious with an emotional and philosophic content. To convolute McLuhan, in 2001 the message is the medium. I intended the film to be an intensely subjective experience that reaches the viewer at an inner level of consciousness, just as music does; to "explain" a Beethoven symphony would be to emasculate it by erecting an artificial barrier between conception and appreciation. You're free to speculate as you wish about the philosophical and allegorical meaning of the film - and such speculation is one indication that it has succeeded in gripping an audience at a deep level - but I don't want to spell out a verbal road map for 2001 that every viewer will feel obligated to purchase or else fear he's missed the point. I think that if 2001 succeeds at all, it is in reaching a wide spectrum of people who would not often give a thought to man's destiny, his role in the cosmos and his relationship to higher forms of life. But even in the case of someone who is highly intelligent, certain ideas found in 2001, if presented as abstractions, would fall rather lifelessly and be automatically assigned to pat intellectual categories; as experiences in a moving visual and emotional context, however, they can resonate within the deepest fibers of one's being. "  -- Stanley Kubrick
Kubrick understood the power of science-fiction, of how these scientifically based themes and stories can elevate human thinking, individualized stories, and profound thought. He understood, also, that through buying a ticket to the theater (or nowadays utilizing one of the many streaming services available), the viewer is, in essence, agreeing to give their time, and their thought, to a film. He understood that film is an art form, capable of entertaining, but also capable of imparting wisdom; it is as much upon the filmmaker to understand that as it is for the viewer.
If you would like to take anything away from my thoughts here, I recommend you take this: films can be good when approached from an entertainment-based philosophy (as they currently are). They can be masterpieces when they are approached from an artistic perspective.
Science-fiction has the unique ability to tell incredible, unthinkable stories all while grounded by a scientific platform.
With science-fiction things like time travel, and space travel, and aliens all seem within our grasp, and attainable.
When we use that power just to placate an audience, or an investor, we, as filmmakers, are wasting our time.
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12 Mistakes Even Smart Bloggers Make
A well-to-do father once reproached his son for “shady financial dealings” and “improprieties with another workman’s wife.”
This prodigal son abandoned the opportunities afforded by his father, turning his back on higher education and government service to seek his fortune plundering foreign lands as a mercenary. His father wrote a letter lamenting the errors of his ways, pleading that he reconsider and return to the straight and narrow.
How does the story end?
We don’t know.
Only the letter remains. As recounted in The Instruction of Amenemope, by Dr. James R. Black, this letter dates to the era of Ramesses III, between 1186–1155 BC.
…a few years ago, to say the least.
What’s striking is that there’s surely a similarly-distraught father composing a near-identical letter (or perhaps email) somewhere in the world today, well over 3 millennia later.
After all…
Some things NEVER change.
And this is precisely what I’ve noticed over the years receiving requests for blogging critiques:
99% of all bloggers make the exact same mistakes!
And just like that troubled father from a few thousand years ago…all I can do is write about it.
So… today I’m here to plead that you cease your careless ways and heed the following instruction, lest I continue my bereaved lamentations and furious protestations!
Let’s dig into the 12 mistakes even smart bloggers (myself included) make.
Have a listen to the top 3 right here…
Read on for the full dastardly dozen…
1. All steak; no sizzle
While most people read blogs to learn something new or simply to be entertained, every reader is a potential customer, and a blog should seize every possible opportunity to compel readers into taking action.
In short, you’ve got to SELL your goods.
For instance, a blog could be advertising the best lead magnet in the history of the Internet, but if the pitch isn’t compelling, no one’s going to opt-in to get it.
Don’t be afraid to plunge considerable time and effort into crafting your pitch. Write out 25 variations before choosing one. Seriously.
Blogging is one of the most effective online network marketing strategies!
Unlike traditional salesmen, bloggers can easily overcome the fear of rejection, since they can’t have a door slammed in their face. However, this also means they have to work twice as hard (at minimum, really) to get readers to actually take action.
An effective pitch should:
Solve one specific problem. Be short and to-the-point. Provide clear instructions on what to do next.
Keep in mind that “get updates” or “free newsletter” or “email list” aren’t a strong benefit to a casual browser.
Try something more like, “get X result in Y number of days…all without having to ever do Z.”
For dozens more examples of strong offers, check out this special report on writing killer headlines.
2. Vacancy in neon
Results are a product of consistency. Period.
“If you want to continually grow your blog, you need to learn to blog on a consistent basis.” – Neil Patel, co-founder of Quick Sprout, KISSmetrics, and Crazy Egg
According to HubSpot’s Marketing Benchmarks from 7,000 Businesses report, companies that blog 15 or more times every month get at least 5 times more traffic than companies that don’t even have a blog. And successful traffic generation is, after all, the name of the game.
It’s difficult to achieve momentum and it’s all-too-easy to lose it, so keeping a schedule is crucial. Writing your next blog post should be a regular item on your calendar.
While content creation may be an uphill battle sometimes (I’ve certainly taken a walk around “writer’s block” more than once), figure out what gets you in the “writing mood,” and then take advantage of the productivity surge.
This 3 step process capitalize on your creativity helps tremendously with inspiration.
Try batching; write two or three posts in a single session to publish them at a future time. This will not only help you maintain consistency, but will also reduce the stress of churning out last-minute content.
Finally, set expectations and stick to ‘em.
3. All hat; no cattle
“Fake it ’till you make it” doesn’t mean inauthentically representing yourself. It’s perfectly acceptable to be exactly where you are in your growth as an entrepreneur.
You don’t have to be THE expert on any given topic, you simply have to be an expert in someone else’s eyes. Chances are strong you know a thing or two someone else doesn’t.
“Ask yourself, what simple twist on a familiar theme will entrap your audience?” – Andrew Davis, author of Brandscaping
Share what you’re learning while building your business. Be a journalist. Chronicle your education and subsequent success all along the way. It’s totally cool to be a student. You think a med student knows more about medicine than the average joe? Right.
Embrace your failures and turn them into lessons so that your readers may learn from your mistakes.
Remember Sonny Lanorias’ story of going from foreclosure to generating 10k in 60 days? Just like him, you should let your audience in on the hardships you’ve overcome to get where you are today.
4. Talkin’ the leg off a donkey
In order to prepare for possible objections, an effective door-to-door salesman will attempt to get to know a customer BEFORE pitching a product to understand exactly how he or she can benefit from it.
“Blogging is a conversation, not a code.” – Mike Butcher, Editor-at-Large, TechCrunch
Blogs should not be treated as bullhorns.
In fact, blogging is closer to dating than it is to selling.
It is one of the online network marketing strategies that actually helps you build trusting relationships.
One of the biggest differences between bloggers and traditional salesmen is that door-to-door salesmen need to “woo” their prospects and “propose” just moments after they met.
Blogging, on the other hand, is a slow courtship…
So when you write a post, be sure to solicit feedback from your audience and encourage engagement. Just like your audience gets to know you a little bit better with every post, you should also get to know them!
Read and reply to all of your comments and don’t be afraid to reach out over the phone or Facebook. It’s the quickest way to get your audience to trust you enough to take the “next step.”
5. All form; no substance
Some people focus entirely on how their blog looks, and pay too little attention to the content.
And it should come as no surprise that failing to create genuinely valuable content is one of the main reasons why most marketers SUCK at content marketing (and get poor results).
Your blog can be drop-dead gorgeous. You can spend ages obsessing over your font selection and color scheme, but if your blog is not helping readers solve their problems, they’re NOT going to return…thank you very much.
Luckily it’s easier than you might think to quickly and almost effortlessly create high-value, problem-solving, and traffic-exploding blog posts.
And your #1 priority is to have people coming back to your blog over and over again, so they can slowly “fall in love” with your content. Why? So they can sell themselves on the idea of buying from you!
“Content isn’t King, it’s the Kingdom.” – Lee Odden, CEO of TopRank Marketing
Furthermore, you should strive to continuously and consistently deliver quality content. It is easy to lose an audience if you stop delivering value and just try to “cash in” with empty pitches.
6. All substance; no form
Similarly, your blog can deliver a metric ton of life-changing value, but if it looks like it’s headed to a GeoCities theme party, you’re in big trouble.
“A bad website is like a grumpy salesperson.” – Jakob Nielsen, renowned author and web usability consultant.
Users should be able to easily get around your blog and navigate through your content.
The most valuable content in the world is worthless if the reader is unable to find it underneath a barrage of oversized images or if he/she has to struggle with gawdawful color combinations to actually read it.
Importantly, avoid the temptation is make your blog too “busy” – stuffing your navigation and sidebar with too many banners, widgets, and offers. Less is more. Simple and straightforward is always more effective.
“Design is not just what it looks like and feels like – Design is how it works.” – Steve Jobs
Your blog’s appearance and the quality of its content should be well-balanced. ‘Nuff said!
7. Don’t know when NOT to quit
Most bloggers get excited, write a few posts, get discouraged, throw their hands up in the air, and say, “this isn’t working for me!”
Well, I hate to point out the obvious: blaggin’ takes time.
“Success is the sum of small efforts, repeated day in and day out.” – Robert Collier
Many people enter the ‘blogosphere’ much like the first time they join a gym: they sign up hoping to see results in the first couple of weeks, and when those results are nowhere to be seen, they simply throw in the towel, seek refuge in a large tub of ice cream, and scoff at anyone who ever suggests they should work out regularly…
As I mentioned in The 5 Worst Traffic Mistakes and How to Avoid Them:
“Entrepreneurs don’t quit; they fail and fail and fail until they succeed.”
8. Barking up the wrong tree
I’m about to say something that isn’t true, but I want to you behave like it is. Cool?
SEO is dead.
It’s so dead, don’t even think about it.
SEO, or “search engine optimization,” are strategies designed to appeal to the “robots” that crawl and ultimately index Web pages. SEO tactics usually involve stuffing keywords and hunting for backlinks.
Forget all that. Unless you’ve been blogging for a year or have written over 100 posts, SEO is not where you need to focus your energy. Not even close.
Write for people – living, breathing folks with emotions; not target keywords.
Your readers are looking for leadership, and expect to be engaged and educated.
9. Cat ‘n gloves
Look, you’re doing this to make sales.
They’re not just going to magically happen. You’ve got to ASK for the sale. Don’t be timid about it or you won’t catch any mice.
“Make the prospect a more informed buyer with content.” – Robert Simon, Four Seasons Hotels
This doesn’t mean you should bombard readers with banners and links to your products and business opportunity.
Some people publish marketing messages—almost like a text-based infomercial—and expect readers to become customers just because they ask them to.
You wouldn’t ask a girl to marry you on the first date, now would you?
Your offers need to be naturally integrated into your content and congruently provide additional value to the topic at hand. This way readers won’t be caught off-guard when you reveal your offer, and they will appreciate your efforts to complement the information you’ve shared with a relevant, valuable product.
10. They’re just not that into you
You know what they (your customers) are into?
Themselves.
Their problems. Their dreams, ambitions, excuses, and “reasons.”
Whether you’re telling a story or writing a step-by-step guide, you’ll want to pull your readers into your content.
Using “you” is a surprisingly effective way to get up close and personal with your audience.
People who read your blog will become more involved in what you’re sharing, and it will allow you to build stronger relationships with them.
Use 10x more “you” and 10x less “me” and you’ll be all right.
11. Use it or lose it
Despite the fact that we live in a world of amazing technological advancements, there is still a possibility for something to go terribly wrong, causing you to lose your blog (knock on wood).
Imagine: after spending countless hours creating compelling content for your audience—knowing they’ll keep coming back for more—you log into your blog to discover your database is corrupted or someone hacked in and deleted all your content…just for kicks!
And there goes one of your most effective online network marketing strategies!
Don’t let this happen to you.
Have a regular plan to back up your site and stick to it.
Automate it if possible.
Do it before tinkering with anything. Do it before updating anything.
Heck, how about you go back it up right meow?
12. Failure to promulgate and propagate
If you’ve spent the time to create a post, you’ve got to spend an equal, if not greater, amount of time shamelessly promoting and syndicating it!
“What you do after you create your content is what truly counts.” – Gary Vaynerchuk
You’ll want to let everybody know there’s a new piece of content on the blogosphere.
Send an email to your list, tweet about it several times on the day it is published, and make sure your Facebook followers are aware of it.
Keep posting comments and new updates about it on social media on the days following the piece’s publishing, and keep sharing it until the cows come home…
However, relying solely on free traffic is one of the worst traffic mistakes you can make!
Especially when you’re just getting started.
Setting an advertising budget to promote your content—however small it may be—will allow you to quantify your results and, more importantly, scale your operations when you feel your business (and your budget) is ready for the next level.
Romancing Readers into Customers
“Always remember that before your prospects will buy FROM you, they have to buy INTO you.” – Ferny Ceballos
In short, you need to “woo” them.
Think of it this way: you wouldn’t just go running around with an engagement ring in hand, desperately chasing after random passers-by, asking to get hitched on the spot, now would you?
Didn’t think so.
First you’d want to exchange numbers, go on that awkward first date, and then experience the fun (and qualification process) of a prolonged courtship, all before taking the next step.
Well, this is precisely what your blog allows you to do!
Your blog’s opt-in form creates the initial attraction and gets interested prospects’ contact information.
Easy peasy.
Once you’ve got their “number,” which in this instance is usually their email address, you’re ready to turn on the romance through your follow-up and convert your prospects into paying customers.
You’ve got to do this right:
Tastefully not timidly, and in a value-added way. (Else you’ll turn them off!)
To effectively craft such a follow-up process, which cements that YOU—and you alone—are the “one” in your prospects’ eyes…
…I strongly recommend that you sign up for this free 10-day crash course in online recruiting.
Ferny Ceballos, Chief Marketing Officer here at Elite Marketing Pro, reveals everything you need to know about automating this entire process and cultivating strong relationships with dozens, hundreds, even thousands of prospects simultaneously, every single day.
  Until next time,
Andrew Draughon Director of Content, Elite Marketing Pro
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shopinapp-blog · 6 years ago
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From Jeff Bezos to Elon Musk: What True Innovators Know About Risk
Jeff Bezos is widely known as the CEO of Amazon, currently the richest man in the world, and it’s clear that his success didn’t just come from nowhere. He left the security of a high-level position at a Wall Street investment firm to start Amazon, which at the time was of its inception, just an online bookstore. Bezos understood the risks of starting over and attempting to build a company from the ground up. He even warned his earliest investors, his parents, that there was a 70 percent chance Amazon would fail.
It took 60 meetings to raise Amazon’s first funding round, eventually resulting in 25 investors participating with cheque sizes of about $50,000 each. In a famous 60 Minute interview, Bezos confides: “The riskiest moment for Amazon, Charlie, was at the very, very beginning. I needed to raise $1 million at a certain point, and I ended up giving away 20 percent of the company for a million dollars… And it was nip and tuck whether I was going to be able to raise that money. So, the whole thing could have ended before the whole thing started. That was 1995, and the first question every investor asked me was: ‘What’s the Internet?’”
Throughout his career and personal life, Bezos has based his risks on what he calls a “regret minimization framework.” Instead of assessing how much risk a decision has, he instead questions if he’ll regret a decision in the future. Before starting Amazon, he asked himself if he would regret not being a part of the internet boom that was happening at the time, and he found that the answer was yes. That simple but elegant mindset drew Bezos towards the continued risk-taking that has defined Amazon’s success.
Bezos has driven a significant amount of innovation throughout Amazon’s existence. Just consider how far the business has come from simply selling books online, now selling a wider variety of products than any physical store. The company is always striving to further diversify their offerings, which include Amazon Web Services and Amazon Prime among their most successful endeavors. Bezos founded one of the largest companies in the world on a monumental risk, and he continues to innovate and take risks to this day.
Elon Musk also dismissed safety and comfort in his career to push forward and innovate. After Paypal was bought out by eBay in 2002, he took his money to create SpaceX in hopes of commercializing spaceflight and eventually attempting colonization of other planets. His other companies grew to include Tesla, The Boring Company, SolarCity, and more.
Musk’s biggest struggle came in 2008, as SpaceX faced repeated failuresin its tests and Tesla was losing money fast. Musk was broke, and his companies were close to bankruptcy. But finally, SpaceX managed its first successful launch and subsequently earned a $1.6 billion contract from NASA. Meanwhile, Tesla investors decided to increase their investments, saving the company. Instead of seeing the end of the line and giving up, Musk chose to fight for his vision until the last second, and was rewarded for his perseverance and determination.
The stories of Bezos and Musk indicate that risk-taking can pay off excellently — but only for worthwhile risks. Despite the high chances of failure, they didn’t enter their endeavors recklessly, but instead with intense vision for the future and a plan to carry it out.
This sort of major risk-taking is something that’s often avoided in businesses today. According to Scott Galloway, clinical professor of marketing at NYU’s Stern School of Business, most CEOs now won’t take a risk that has anything less than a 50 percent chance of success. Bezos has opposed this view, and was quoted early in his career as saying, “Given a 10 percent chance of a hundred times payout, you should take that bet every time.”
An entrepreneur can take a single risk and have it pay off, but if they spend the rest of their career playing it safe, they’ll never capitalize on or multiply the success found previously. Both Bezos and Musk are constantly trying new things — Bezos and Amazon are always developing new ways to involve themselves in various industries, while Musk’s lineup of companies show that he is not afraid to continually take risks and pursue new ideas.
Type 1 vs Type 2 Decision Making
According to Bezos, there are two types of decisionsthat any business will make: Type 1 and Type 2. Type 1 decisions are irreversible, and should therefore be made with caution. Type 2 decisions are ones that are easily reversible. If a Type 2 decision is not working out, a business can simply revert back to its former state. Amazon makes a lot of Type 2 decisions, constantly trying out new services or products and quickly cutting them if they aren’t working out. The best example of this was the Amazon Fire Phone, which failed to have any immediate impact and was swiftly taken off the market.
But this sort of Type 2 decision-making has also led to the development of Amazon Web Servicesand Amazon Prime, two of the company’s biggest services. In addition, the payoff from previous successful risks allows the business to take more risks in the future with less consequence. If one of Amazon’s projects fails, the company’s losses are minimal. But a smaller company making a comparable investment would likely fail altogether if their project doesn’t work out. This is why in retrospect, Amazon’s Fire Phone seems like only a minor failure. Continually taking risks creates success, which eventually builds to the point of mitigating the effects of potential failures going ahead.
While innovators and businesses should lean heavily toward Type 2 decisions, there are many factors to consider before deciding to follow through on an idea. All risk must be measured, and one must question what the impact of an idea will be. In this sense, business is alchemy — every idea and decision must lead you to ask: how far off are you from transmuting lead to gold? Answering this question thoroughly with data and careful planning is what bolsters innovators and their ideas.
Bezos and Musk may be exemplary individuals, but innovation is impossible without a team to build on an innovators’ ideas and keep them in check. Risk-taking is a team effort, and it requires surrounding oneself with people who provide value and insight into the pursuit of innovation. My team at Shopinis constantly questioning ideas, considering the ramifications and always thinking about how an idea can thrive. Having a reliable team is another way to strengthen the power of innovation and to mitigate the risks involved. Innovators don’t have to carry their burdens alone.
Of course, Musk’s recent run-ins with the SECshow a different, darker side of risk-taking that innovators often face. After tweeting a drug-related joke while espousing plans to take Tesla private, the SEC sued Musk for securities fraud, claiming that the tweet was false and misleading, which caused unnecessary volatility in Tesla’s stock. He has been criticized for his behavior, but Musk has defended himself by asserting his freedom of speech. While Musk and Tesla reached a settlement with the SEC, Musk maintains his disdainfor the situation, even going so far as to say that he does not respect the SEC.
Putting aside the controversy, Musk’s insistence on maintaining his position and not backing down offers a meaningful lesson in risk-taking. When opposition bears down on all sides, innovators face a choice: back down and allow one’s vision to dissipate, or charge forward and learn from the experience. Musk, for better or for worse, believes so strongly in his vision and his business methodology that he willingly stood against one of the most prominent government agencies. Bezos too, faced oppositionfrom his peers and from the public when he started Amazon, but both leaders understand deeply that sometimes, to be innovative is to be uncompromising.
One of the most intimate and inspirational videos I’ve seen is a clipfrom a 60 Minutes interview with Elon Musk after he is told that his heroes, like Apollo astronauts Neil Armstrong and Eugene Cernan, don’t believe in SpaceX’s mission. Musk becomes emotional, admitting his disappointment, and verges on the edge of tears. Nonetheless, he quickly recovers, and reveals that in spite of the doubts cast by his heroes, he has never considered giving up his vision. If business is alchemy, then innovators are the alchemists, the ones trying to transmute existing elements and create something better. When someone tells them it cannot be done, they are not dissuaded from their goal.
Today, Bezos and Musk are lauded as two of the most successful and influential people in the modern world, and they are inspirational examples of what it means to take risks and be a true innovator. Despite the criticism they receive at times, it’s hard to argue with their results. Perhaps one of the reasons they so often court controversy is because they challenge the status quo, constantly looking for ways we can make our lives better. Whether you agree with them or not, this is how true innovators operate and succeed: on their own terms.
Before I embarked on the journey of Shopin, I had the decision to pursue another blockchain-related opportunity that would have made me wildly financially wealthy. I looked at what Shopin’s predecessor was trying to achieve and realized how rare an opportunity we had in front of us to shift the status quo for so many people, and have since pursued the evolution of that vision relentlessly. During times of struggle, many told me to walk away from the opportunity, but I could not let go of the mission and vision.
I remember when one of my closest friends and advisors told me: “I have no idea how you do it: When everyone else is running out of a burning building, you’re the only one running in.” I spent thousands of hours and went down to my last dollars to save the company and cover the employees’ salaries.
There were days where I had to negotiate with investors, employees, vendors and retailers all on the same day… and the only thing I had to sell was a vision and a belief that we could execute to bring it to life. The stress was overwhelming. Most nights I worked till 3AM or was on calls with mentors in Europe till the morning light creeped through the window panes, reminding me a new day had dawned.
Now, Shopin has remarkable opportunities in its future, leading the charge in improving the retail experience while making a positive impact on data rights and security. The feeling of overcoming risk to innovate and succeed is incomparable. Make no mistake: Every day is a psychological, emotional, mental and creative challenge… each one faced with a boat-load of gratitude and grit.
To court innovation is often to glimpse into the void of insanity. If you don’t get used to teetering at the edge, you will never know what’s on the other side.
This article was originally published on ScoreNYC.com
About the Author
Eran Eyal is an investor, advisor, and award-winning entrepreneur with over 20 years of experience in the crowdsourcing, e-commerce and retail markets. Currently, Eyal is the founder and co-CEO of Shopin, where he looks to revolutionize the customer shopping experience by putting individuals in control of their own data.
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robincross · 8 years ago
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Valentine’s Gift for @peanut-milk for the @aftgexchange.
The one where Andrew and Neil have their first official date( On Valentine’s Day no less. Blame Allison.)
“So, what did you get your monster for Valentine’s Day?” Allison asks, as she idly types away at her phone.
Anger bubbles up in Neil, “Allison, he’s not—“ he begins, but gets cut off by her.
“Sorry, I meant to say Andrew, your boyfriend. What did you get him for Valentine’s Day?” she gives a quick glance up at Neil, whose face appears slightly flushed at the remark. A smirk forms on her lips, “Don’t try and deny that. I won’t let you.”
Neil sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “Nothing. Why would I?” At those words, Allison stops typing away on her phone and sets it down next to her. She arches a brow at Neil, “What do you mean ‘nothing,’ it’s Valentine’s Day, Neil. That one day of the year specifically designated by capitalism to celebrate your love with your partner. Which is Andrew, in your case.”
Love. He lets the word wash over him. He doesn’t know if that’s the word he’d use. It’s a word too overused all around him but too underused in his own life for it to mean anything to him.  He doesn’t think any word is fit to describe what he and Andrew have and yet—
Neil shrugs off Allison’s comment, “We’re not into that kind of stuff. It’s stupid. Why pick one day of the year to specifically celebrate a relationship?” He didn’t think Andrew would be too partial to celebrating it either. He would probably just walk away from Neil for just suggesting it. It had taken a while for Andrew to even admit that what they had was something and in fact, a ‘this.’
“Because it’s nice,” Allison replies like it’s obvious, “It’s a decent excuse to dress up and go out on a date. Eat. Drink. Kiss. Whatever.”
Neil stays silent and Allison reads the silence in the only way she can.
“Wait, have you two ever gone on a date?” She reaches for her phone and Neil can’t help but think another bet has been settled between the Foxes.
“That’s none of your business,” Neil gets up to leave.
-
Neil receives a text an hour later from Allison detailing directions to a restaurant in Columbia and reservation details.
For u and ur boyfriend. Have fun.
Neil replies with, no.
Allison texts back, go or don’t go. I don’t care. The reservation has been made.
Neil doesn’t bother to text back.
-
That night, like every other night, Andrew and Neil end up on the rooftop. Neil finds himself thinking back to Allison’s words. Have you two ever been on out on a date? The truth was that no, they had never done the whole go out on a ‘date’ thing. Neil didn’t mind it  because they had their smoke filled nights on the rooftop. But, since Allison had brought it up that morning, he couldn’t help but be curious. He found that he actually liked the idea but he wasn’t sure how he felt about it coupled with Valentine’s Day.
“Spit it out already, Neil.” Andrew breaks him out his thoughts. Neil watches as he takes a drag of his cigarette and blows out smoke into the cold air.
“Are you busy Saturday evening?” Neil decides to just ask. After all, it's never steered him wrong before. He knows Andrew isn’t—his days are usually a combination of classes, Exy and Neil. Sometimes none.  Andrew cocks his head to the side but doesn’t look at Neil.
“I’ll check my calendar, let you know after,” he drawls.
“Andrew,” Neil says because really he doesn’t know what else to say. He knew Andrew wasn’t going to make this easy on him, which was enough to frustrate Neil, who was already swimming in unknown territory.
“Why?"
“I have dinner reservations Saturday night.”  Neil says Saturday and not Valentine’s Day because that’s a surefire way to get an instant rejection.   Also, technically, it was Allison that had reservations but Andrew didn’t need to know that.
“Congratulations.”
“You want to go with me?” Neil asks, as casually as he can.
“Are you asking me out on a date? On Valentine’s Day, no less? Never took you for a romantic.” There’s a ghost of a twitch to Andrew’s lips as he asks. Neil reaches out to take Andrew's cigarette and breathes in the trailing smoke.  
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to go out on a date with my boyfriend.” So much for being casual about it.
Andrew stills briefly and finally turns his gaze on Neil. It’s the first time Neil has ever referred to Andrew as his boyfriend. He waits for denial in the form of an obnoxious answer but all Neil gets is a question in return.
“Why?” Andrew studies him and Neil doesn’t look away from the scrutiny. He’s used to this. It’s Andrew calculating Neil, adding and subtracting, trying to solve for the remaining variables in the equation. The problem that keeps on giving.
Neil is silent, trying to think of the truth not just for Andrew but himself as well. His curiosity had gotten the better of him but curiosity was never a good enough answer for Andrew. He wanted a taste of normalcy, it wasn’t Valentine’s Day he wanted a piece of though. It was the going out for dinner, just him and Andrew.
“I’ve never been on a date.”
Andrew tilts his head in consideration. He reaches over to steal back his cigarette, only to snuff it out on the cement seconds later.
“Neither have I,” Andrew offers up his own truth.
Neil let’s the silence settle around them both, knowing all too well not to push for an answer. Neil is content with gazing at Andrew and imagines tracing the moonlit shadows on his face. There’s a slight wrinkle in Andrew’s forehead, giving away Andrew’s pensive state. Neil fights down the urge to kiss Andrew and waits him out.
“Cancel those reservations,” Andrew says. Neil can’t help but feel disappointed and all he can muster is a weak, “Okay.”
Neil watches as Andrew reaches out to light a new cigarette. “I’m not taking you out to some restaurant that Allison picked. We’re going to do this my way.”
Neil blinks in confusion, “How’d you know it was Allison?”
Andrew rolls his eyes, “Who else would get you a last minute reservation on Valentine’s Day?”
Neil smiles and leans in towards Andrew, stopping short a few inches from his face. He waits for acceptance or rejection and seconds later he's greeted by Andrew's lips crashing into his own.
They spend the rest of the night kissing each other dizzy.
-
Saturday night, Neil dresses himself while Andrew is in the shower. He tries his best, picking out pieces that seem to fit together, trying to remember clothes that brought on lingering looks from Andrew.  He settles on a grey long-sleeved buttoned up shirt and dark slacks. It’s a combination of formal wear that he had once worn to one of the Exy banquets. He doesn’t remember much of the banquet but he clearly remembers Andrew’s hands on him later that night.
Once Andrew comes out of the shower, Neil is rewarded with a slow once over. Neil feels something in his gut settle.
“Staring,” Neil teases. Andrew doesn’t say anything to him though and instead walks past him to get ready.
Neil heads to the kitchen and digs out a box of chocolates that he had bought at the store earlier. He really wasn’t aware for the protocol of what a date entailed but he thought gifts might be involved. It’s not like Andrew would ever turn down free chocolate so Neil thought it was a safe bet.  He made sure to get one that weren’t clearly Valentine’s Day themed and ended up settling on a box of whiskey filled chocolates.
Andrew comes out of the room, dressed casually but significantly less dressed down than Neil.  Neil frowns, had he overdone it on his part? He never asked Andrew what he planned for them both. He just figured it would be a different restaurant.
“Where are we going?”
“Columbia,” Andrew responds as his gaze falls to the box being held by Neil. Neil takes it as his cue to shove the box into Andrew’s hands.
“I hate you,” Andrew replies without any heat.
-
Once they get to Columbia, Andrew drops Neil off at the house without offering any explanation. Neil waits at the house, flipping through channels in confusion. Neil was fairly sure this wasn’t how dates were supposed to go but shrugs it off because this was Andrew after all. Andrew never quite followed the norm, never did Neil for that matter and that was enough to placate Neil as he waited for Andrew’s return.
Andrew arrives sometime later, carrying several grocery bags with him. Neil watches him as he takes item after item out of the grocery bags. Neil’s eyes widen in slight surprise as he realizes what was happening.
Andrew was cooking dinner. Andrew was making pasta.
“Can I help?” he finds himself asking.
“Get your boyfriend a drink,” he says, dropping several ingredients into a pot to simmer. Neil snorts, he wants to say something but thinks better of it as fiery warmth spreads through him and he just knows his face is red all over. He takes two down two glasses from the cupboard and fills them both with the vodka Andrew had bought. He hands one to Andrew and keeps the other to himself. Neil still doesn’t drink very often, but if he does it’s always with Andrew.
Neil doesn’t say anything else, content to just watch Andrew in action. It’s mesmerizing really. He had never seen Andrew cook like this before. The few times he had it was just simple breakfast items and only for himself at that. He had never cooked for Neil.
“I learned at Eden’s,” Andrew offers the answer to Neil’s unasked question, ”We started off helping to cook in the kitchen before they let us bus tables out in the club.” Us. Aaron and him.
“How long were you planning to hide this talent of yours?”
Andrew glances up from the pot, “You never asked.”
There’s a warm feeling in Neil’s stomach and he doesn’t fight the smile that comes over him. He realizes he’s happy. They eat and drink in comfortable silence. Trading stories every once in a while, ranging from the worst things they have had ever eaten to hypothetical situations of what exactly they would take with them on an island.
Allison’s words come back to him, because it’s nice. Neil can’t help but agree as he watches Andrew open his box of liquored chocolates. He pops one into his mouth. Neil fights his hardest not to smile, the warm feeling filling him up. Neil would have blamed it on the alcohol but he had stopped at his second drink, which was nowhere near enough to get him drunk or even buzzed.
“You’re staring,” Andrew says. Neil reaches over to Andrew’s hand, an unspoken question that Andrew answers by interlocking their fingers. Love, Neil thinks to himself but doesn’t dare say it out loud. Maybe it might just fit, just like his and Andrew's hands fit together.
“Can you blame me?” Neil grins. Andrew flicks him an unimpressed look and leans forward, stopping short of kissing Neil. He places a hand on Neil’s neck and waits for Neil to close the gap between them.
Neil has never been fond of sweets, but the taste of chocolate on Andrew’s tongue is one that Neil can’t even bring himself to complain over.
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mchartforever · 8 years ago
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Diane Lockhart is back!
(The Good Fight Episode 5: Stoppable: Requiem for an Airdate)
I have so many thoughts on this episode I don’t even know where to start. Good thing my notes can help me out.
The opening scene where the partners were discussing the case already showed me a lot of things worth mentioning. Like that Diane and Lucca are on normal terms by now, at least that’s the impression I got. Barbara trying to navigate between Adrian and Julius reminded me of Diane disciplining the guys at Lockhart/Gardner. Oh how I miss the good old days! Diane suggesting the strategy for the case showed how the firm relies on her knowledge and experience, as they should.
Still laughing at Barbara asking Adrian how come she always has to do the dirty work, while he’s having fun at court and him replying because she’s so good at the dirty work. Gotta love their duo, and that they complement each other, just like Diane and Will did. I’m already curious about their Stern, I mean Reddick. Hope we’ll eventually get to know who’s hiding behind that name. (Talking about Adrian in court, I’m happy we finally got to see that, can’t wait for it to be Barbara’s turn!)
Marissa’s scenes were again the most fun, like when she told Diane she needs the job, or asked if she should stay and take notes when Kurt showed up. (For some reason I always expect Diane to respond to her differently than she does. As if she would count to five not to be harsh and always replies politely in the end. Or I’m just seeing things, who knows. :P ) And how she wouldn’t shut up at the meeting with Neil Gross, what was that about? Like she kept replying instead of Diane, rude much? But who can be angry with her, really? I know I can’t. I was annoyed at Neil Gross though when he asked Diane questions in the restaurant and didn’t even listen to her replies. Show some respect, dude.
I was glad that the episode addressed Diane’s money issues again, although I didn’t expect it to provide a solution that fast, but I’ll get back to that later. The thought alone that she would have to sell her apartment was heartbreaking. Why can’t she just go back and demand her capital contribution from David&Co, or sue their asses? They cannot get away with this, can they?
Maia’s dad being out of prison so fast was quite unexpected, but I like it when different storylines get linked like this. I need more Maria/Diane interactions though, and where the hell is Amy? We don’t see enough of her and I don’t like it at all.
I loved seeing Elsbeth back and I think if anyone has a chance against Krestiva it’s definitely her. Their first two rounds were already very entertaining. And I like that we got to know Krestiva’s wife too, just like Canning’s wife, she seems very different than her husband.
Lucca and Colin having their little fun at court was quite entertaining. I can’t say I actually ship them, but I don’t mind them. But that they have to talk about Alicia even in bed is a bit ridiculous.  Also what’s with all the Alicia references in this episode? I think they went a little overboard this time. Hope at least the Alicia fans who are still watching appreciate them.
I guess it’s really time to talk about McHart now! After that depressing first episode it was nice to have Kurt back for a more entertaining storyline. Their first scene felt a lot like old times. He bringing her a present and asking for a favor, it was a really great idea. And I still can’t believe she lied about the phone call. I’m pretty sure he knew she was lying though. He knows her all too well. Also you could tell from the way he talked that he was nervous, but he still came and asked her and once she said yes he seemed a lot calmer, and I loved the looks they shared before he left. Also he brought her a gun! That’s the definition of a perfect present! And her reaction was priceless. She clearly misses shooting with him, I bet she hasn’t done it ever since they separated.
It was sort of not cool that Diane forgot about Kurt’s speech until she spotted the box, although it’s understandable that she has the money problems on her mind all the time. The speech with the red corrections made me laugh, and her telling him it’s not as bad as it looks. Poor man. It took him a while to put his ego aside and accept that she was right, but she knows how to get to him, and she did. The whole conversation was perfection, especially the comments when she encouraged him to drink, how cute was that? And the way he looked at her! He loves that she is so smart.
Now let’s get to the part when she showed up at his speech because she wanted to. Oh how I love her for it! He clearly didn’t expect her to do it, and appreciated the gesture so much. She was there to support her husband, that says it all. And she was so proud of him! This speech was definitely a team effort. And they celebrated it together afterwards. :P Words can’t express how I felt when he shut her up with that kiss and she let him! Oh how I missed their kisses!
Too bad we were sort of spoiled on that they would sleep together, imagine if it all had been a surprise, I would have loved that, not that I didn’t love it anyway. And they brought up her money issues again with the boxes and he offered his help! Bless him! The idea of her moving in with him had always sounded like a fun solution in my head, but it wasn’t really realistic. I’m glad she said no, and did it because she wanted to solve that issue on her own. She didn’t want to move in with him simply because she didn’t have any other choice and he respected that. He is giving her space, because he knows that she needs it. And hopefully once she’s solved her other problems she would have the peace of mind to focus on the two of them. It just wasn’t the right time now. But it was great to see she didn’t regret their night together and their kiss was absolutely breathtaking.
I really hope we will see Kurt again this season, I want to know where they go from here. They seem to be on a better place already than they were in the Pilot, but I know it’s not that easy. He is clearly still in love with her, and she also still has feelings for him. But I’m pretty sure she hasn’t forgiven him yet, he will have to work to earn that. It’s really hard to judge their situation without knowing what happened exactly. The Pilot was very vague about the whole affair just like the GW finale was. I don’t really insist on knowing more details, but at the same time it would be useful to understand them better. We will see how much more they will reveal. One thing is sure, with season 2 already announced (YAAAY for that! I’m so happy about it!) there’s definitely more time to develop their relationship too. And I’m really looking forward to it!
And now let’s talk about the last scene, where Diane got what she wanted. I was so proud of her!!! I’m not really a fan of the idea that it was again Neil Gross who saved the day, but I don’t care as long as it means Diane Lockhart is back where she belongs! That scene was so powerful, and Adrian’s reactions were priceless. I love how supporting he is of Diane and she keeps proving to him that it was the right choice to bring her on board. And not even Barbara could say no to the ChumHum money, even if she knows Diane would be trouble. LOL That was such a perfect ending to the episode, and although I feel it might have been too fast for Diane to get back to the top, who am I to complain really? I’ll just sit back and continue to enjoy the show.
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vblmickie2482-blog · 7 years ago
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tortuga-aak · 7 years ago
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Actor, tech entrepreneur, and tech investor Ashton Kutcher has a simple productivity tip anyone can use
Brian Ach / Getty Images
Ashton Kutcher doesn't immediately check his inbox in the morning.
This helps him focus on his own goals — instead of what others want him to do.
He spends his first hour of the day writing down what he wants to accomplish.
Sending emails to the right person is more productive than emailing multiple, different departments.
Email subject lines should also be eye-catching to boost response rates.
  Email is more than just a communication method — it’s a productivity hack endorsed by a Hollywood superstar. Actor and philanthropist Ashton Kutcher recently said that email is “everyone else’s to-do list for you” — a schedule of tasks from friends and family that you need to complete.
Talking to the Thrive Global podcast, Ashton revealed his simple strategy for more productive email communication. He doesn’t spend the first hour of his working day browsing his inbox. No, he writes out what he wants to accomplish over the next few days instead.
The result?
Less time wasting and more productivity. “All I was doing was other people’s work all day long,” Ashton says. “I never actually got to the things that I wanted to accomplish.”
It sounded great on the Thrive Global podcast, but does Ashton’s email timesaver actually work? And does it lead to more effective communication? Read on to find out.
More focus at work
Ashton’s email tip will certainly boost your mental focus at work. Taking an hour in the morning to write out your goals for the day is a great idea — and it’s one that experts agree on. “Each morning, take a pen and a piece of paper and write down your 10 top goals,” says motivation and time management expert, Daniel M. Wood. “Don’t look at the day before, just think about what you want to do most and write them down. Remember to write them in the positive present tense, and remember to set a deadline for each goal. Do this for all 10 goals.”
Research shows that people don’t set goals properly. Moreover, nine out of 10 people don’t write down their goals at all. Be part of the elusive 10 percent — scribble down your objectives every morning to reinforce your commitment to them, and restore focus in your life.
Reduce distractions
The United States is a nation of procrastinators, according to research. Twenty-six percent of the population admitted to being “chronic procrastinators” in 2007 — up from just five percent in 1978. People often cite email as a major distraction, so could Ashton’s trick boost productivity in the workplace?
Reducing the number of times you check your email throughout the day and optimizing time management could prevent procrastination. Over 60 percent of individuals in a recent survey said they lost their chain of thought because they read and replied to an email, while more than 50 percent of people who check emails and social media when trying to work indicated a lack of impulse control.
“Email is a monster,” says world-renowned marketing expert Neil Patel. “Each of us has our ways of whimpering and giving in to the monster, or rising to slay it with technological indignation. But whatever the case, email is what it is. And it’s here to stay.”
Ashton has another trick for people who constantly check their email and texts — he leaves his phone on “do not disturb.” “I don’t bring it into my bedroom,” he says. “And I don’t look at it until I have set my goals for the day.”
Frazer Harrison/Getty Images
Send more productive emails
Ever wondered why you didn’t receive a response to that email you sent a few weeks back? You probably sent it to the wrong person. Ashton encourages his employees at venture capital company Sound Ventures to facilitate better email communication across departments. “Here are the team members. If you want X, go to this person. If you want Y, go to that person. If you want Z, go to this person,” he explains. “If you go to me, the likelihood of my responding within 24 to 48 hours is very, very low, so go to these individuals who are responsible for these things.”
The average worker receives 122 emails a day — Ashton, though, probably receives hundreds more than that! — so he doesn’t have the time to reply to every message. Sending the right email to the right person not only improves your chances of a reply, but you can improve efficiency in your organization.
It’s not all about the recipient, though.
Sending an email with an eye-catching subject line — include a brief summary of your message in your header — and making a personal connection in your introduction can boost response rates. “As cliched as it is, one chance at a first impression will always hold true — particularly with emails,” says Search Engine Journal. “Influencers get hundreds of unsolicited emails every day, so they can spot a cut-and-paste job from a mile away.”
You might not have Ashton Kutcher’s million-dollar lifestyle or A-list contacts, but segmenting your morning routine and optimizing your email habits like him could result in a more productive day.
Before you open your Gmail app tomorrow, take a deep breath and outline your goals for the day instead. Like Ashton, you could maximize email management and bring more focus to your working life.
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