#Things to do in Temecula

[punkbarbarian]

for folks who don’t follow them on instagram— ally beardsley wrote part of an op-ed in the washington post for the 50th dnd anniversary about a moment playing dnd that really stuck with them and i wanted to share it here!

“a character’s journey — and my own”

I was an aspiring comedian in Los Angeles and had just landed a salaried job at the comedy website CollegeHumor. My co-worker and friend Brennan Lee Mulligan was looking for six comedians to create a show that would be like an at-home game of D&D. Why not? “Dimension 20” became a weird punctuation to my day.

I remember there being too many rules to remember. I kept turning to my friend, Brian Murphy, to ask which dice I should be rolling. I wasn’t paid overtime, but I loved the group and was having a lot of fun.

For the second season, I had my sea legs. I created a character for the campaign who was transgender. I had started going by the gender neutral they/them pronouns at work and among friends, but sourcing hormones or getting surgery seemed equal parts expensive and invasive. A fun thing about fantasy is stripping away the crunchy, real-world limitations and asking yourself: “What would I do if I could do anything?”

That season’s arc for my character, Pete, was extremely euphoric for me. I had described him as a trans cowboy you might see at Burning Man, and the artist drew him dressed as a freaky Hunter S. Thompson in an open shirt to show his top surgery scars. He has wild magic — uncontrollable and dangerous in the game mechanics — which we used to explore the painful chaos of leaving a family that doesn’t accept you.

Since then, I’ve started testosterone HRT and had top surgery. It’s funny to listen back to myself playing a character who had transitioned in ways I hadn’t. It’s full of inaccuracies that make me smile. Pete takes a testosterone pill every day; I now know it’s a weekly injection or a topical gel. I see my face, one wrapped up in playing something so new but instantly right. It was like an oracle. A near-future me who has health insurance! Who’s talked to their mom about being trans and even spent a week post-top surgery on that mom’s couch in Temecula, Calif!

As I started transitioning my appearance, seeing that in front of the camera felt raw. I was starting hormones, and my voice was cracking. Realizing it was all being recorded felt naked at times, but it has been really nice to talk to fans and friends about how important it is to see someone that looks like you taking a big risk on themself.

With Pete, it was really important to me to tell a story other than the dramatic lead-up to a medical transition. So we started with him having just gotten out of surgery, but that’s all you see of that process. Part of his backstory is that he doesn’t have a relationship with his transphobic parents, and before shooting the first episode, I felt sick to my stomach. I’ve been on a journey with my parents, and our starting place didn’t have much common ground. When my character meets with his father, it felt as though I was actually running into my own on the street.

Brennan could sense that discomfort, and as my character’s dad was about to call Pete by his deadname, Brennan shut the interaction down, surrounding his dad with bubbles that carried him into the sky. Magic is the power and freedom to manipulate your reality, and you can banish the awful voices in your life — let them swirl away into the air.

[drfranklangdon]

They get into the car and Buck immediately takes off his tie and tosses it to the back seat. He’s never been much of a suit guy. But it was a funeral, he had to dress up. And make Tommy dress up too. Same as him, Tommy is also not a suit guy. It’s hard to get those beefy arms into a tailored jacket.

Tommy starts the engine and turns to Buck with the most affectionate glint in his eyes. He stares at him for a few moments, just taking in his view. “What?” Buck asks, smirking. “Something on my face?”

Tommy rolls his eyes and starts driving. “You’re cute is all.”

“I am?” His cheeks flush and he ducks his head the way he always does when Tommy compliments him. “Even covered in boils?”

“Of course.” It’s their thing – ‘Of course.’ Before every shift, one texts ‘Be safe’ and the other responds ‘Of course.’ Buck wants to get it tattooed on himself. It’s way too early for permanent commitments, but he can’t shake the idea. “You’re always cute, Baby.”

“This mean you’re going to kiss me now?” He says pursing his lips, even though Tommy’s eyes are on the road.

“Don’t continue this slander, Evan.” He replies, deadpan as ever. The dry charm is so hot, damn. “I did a hell of a lot more than kiss you this morning.” True. Actually, now that Buck is thinking about it – a rim job is just one long, pleasurable kiss.

“On the face, Kinard.” Buck can deal with the itchiness and sore arm. What he can’t handle is going over twenty-four hours without feeling Tommy’s lips on his own. “Don’t you miss kissing my birthmark every other minute?”

Tommy looks over just in time to see Buck pout and shine his best ‘puppy dog’ eyes at him. He laughs and looks back at the road. “Brat.” He knows exactly how to push his boyfriend’s buttons. “I’ll make up all the missed kisses… once you’re better.”

“And not gross?” Yeah okay, so maybe he is a bit of a brat.

“Did I not call you cute five minutes ago?”

Buck crosses his arms over his chest and huffs. “Not cute enough to kiss apparently.”

***

They eventually get stuck in Traffic. Buck switches from his dress shoes to sneakers, not being able to handle another moment of uncomfortable torture. “Better?” How Tommy is driving with his on, Buck has no idea.

“Much.” There’s a bit of comfortable silence between them, just NPR playing too soft to make out in the background. “I-I want to thank you, babe.” Buck admits shyly, patting Tommy’s (thick) thigh. “For doing this. I know you think I’m dumb for believing in all this curse crap.” He bites the inside of his cheek, feeling a bit small. “I appreciate you going along with it anyway… driving me out to fucking Temecula of all places and indulging my – uh – my weirdness.”

Tommy’s lips flatten and he tsks, shaking his head. “First of all, baby. I don’t think you’re dumb. And you shouldn’t think that either.” He quickly looks over to Buck, making sure he’s taking his words in. And with the way he looks at him, how could Buck not? “This curse means something to you, so of course I was going to help.” Buck feels his chest tighten. This man. “Even spoke to Billy for you.”

“Yeah?” His eyes light up. “What did you say?”

“That’s between me and the dead man.” He places his hand on top of Buck’s on his leg. “He knows not to mess with my boy.”

His cheeks flush and he squirms a little in his seat as a burst of heat travels through him. “Yeah, Daddy – you gonna fight a ghost for me?”

“I’ll fight a thousand ghosts for you, Evan.” Something about the way he says it, in his usual stoic tone, but laced with so much admiration – makes Buck honestly believe him. Not that he’ll literally fight a ghost - although with this Billy situation, who’s to say that couldn’t happen? – but that Tommy will fight for him, for them. He will go to bat for him; time and time again showing up whether Buck needs him or not. He’s all in.

Is this what it feels like to find the one? Buck’s not sure. It didn’t feel like this with Abby or Taylor. He loved them – in different ways. But nothing close to this. Buck can’t imagine a life where Tommy isn’t beside him, indulging him in his antics and looking at him like he’s the sun, moon, and all the stars in between. It’s too early to say it, he knows it is. But, fuck, he really is in love. “Tommy –“ He says, his boyfriend quickly glancing from the road to him. “You matter so much to me.”

“You matter to me too, baby.” Tommy smiles, his eyes crinkling beautifully and so kissable. Maybe they can just pull over for a quickie? “Evan, know this. I will happily put on a suit and drive to Temecula whenever you ask. As long you keep being you.”

Sounds a hell of a lot like Tommy wants to say ‘I love you’ too. Just not now. Not while he’s covered in boils and driving. Because the second he says it, he has to know Buck will say it back and then drown him in kisses. The moment will come soon enough.

***

Buck eventually falls asleep against the window. With all the traffic, it takes them an hour longer than it should have to get back to LA. Tommy shakes him a little to wake him up, leaving a line of drool on the glass. He blinks a few times at the setting sun shining in his eyes, not recognizing the building they’re outside of. Tommy comes around the truck to open Buck’s door for him. Such a gentleman. “Where are we?”

He sighs affectionately. “A dermatologist, Evan.”

[splendsay]

COD FIC // Callsign: Sunshine // Ch. 34: Normal

bruh. this one was a beast. I'd originally written like 3k words of an entirely different plot progression and I was just not happy with it (IT WAS TOO SAD I COULDN'T DO IT) and then this one just kept goin' and goin' and goin' and welp here we are.

..................................................................

Callsign: Sunshine // Chapter 34: Normal

!!MDNI!!

Chapters: 34/? WC: 85,582 Pairing(s): TF141 x F!Reader (You) Chapter Warnings: Explicit language, reference to/implied previous non-con and torture Chapter Excerpt (ft. big time spoilers):

You can't not tell Simon. You just can't. 

You hate yourself for taking this long to realize it. Another tick in the column of 'Reasons You'll Never Be Good Enough For Him.'

It'll be awful. He's going to flip his fucking lid. And he'll blame himself. 

But you can't lie to him. Can't keep a secret like this. He's your -- he's...well...you don't know exactly. 

You love him. You do know that much. And you'd never willfully cause him harm or heartache. You'll help him see -- help him see that it's not his fault. 

You need to tell him. You want to tell him. You're ready to tell him. 

Unfortunately, the doctor insists on quarantining you in his office -- his little makeshift med bay -- while you undergo what he's calling 'testing and observation.' 

It starts the usual way. He picks up a small clipboard and pen, jotting things down as he weighs you. Measures your height. Takes your temperature. Quizzes you about your health status. Date of birth, family medical history, current symptoms. You rattle off answers to each inquiry, mind-numbingly practiced. Rehearsed. 

But then he asks you what the first day of your last period was and you draw a blank. It's...it's been so long, you haven't a clue. You tell him as much and he pauses his scribbling to look up at you, eyes boring holes through those little spectacles. 

"Explain," he says.

"I...I haven't had a regular period since before the Rift. Haven't had one at all in months."

His frown deepens as he notes it in your chart. "Can you remember roughly the last time you bled?"

You scan your memories. It's been ages. Since shortly after the rebels took over Temecula. You'd had such a hard time finding supplies, you'd ended up using bunched up old socks to spare your only pair of jeans the worst of it. 

"Late January, I think..."

He purses his lips and looks back down at your chart, humming thoughtfully. "Had you been regular prior to the Rift?"

"Yeah, I was. Before."

He makes a small harrumph noise. "Malnutrition, probably. Lifestyle. But we should keep an eye on it."

You snort at his use of the word lifestyle, as though you'd been given a choice in the matter, but you don't argue. 

"Are you sexually active?"

Your face heats. You can't help the sideways glance you give Soap, but he's not looking at you, he's looking at the floor. 

"I...yes."

"Number of partners in the last six months?"

You clear your throat to subdue the wave of nausea that roils through you. "Um...two."

"Are you using protection?"

You clench your teeth together. "Not at the moment..."

The doctor sighs. "You're not trying to conceive, are you?"

"I...no."

"Then you should probably be on something. Especially with your irregularity. I think I've a few IUDs in here somewhere."

"That's...really okay. I'm good."

He eyes you up and down. You feel every inch of it, like he's painting your skin with a brush made of judgment. "Very well," he says finally. "I've got Mifepristone too."

Soap sputters out a choked cough, but the doc just goes right into his next question. 

It goes on like this a little while longer. He peers in your eyes and ears, inspects the skin of your body in places beyond your wrist. Makes you stick out your tongue so he can look at your tonsils. Everything is normal, he says. 

Normal. Your mind gets stuck on that diagnosis. Normal. 

You don't feel normal. Your body does, you guess. Except for the part where your lungs feel a little too big for your ribcage. Or where your heartbeat feels like it's in stop and go traffic -- speeding up only to inexplicably slow down again seconds later. Your hands are perpetually damp. You keep having to wipe them on your legs. But those, at least, are feelings you're accustomed to. 

Normal.

If the abnormal is normal, then what good is the word to begin with? What the hell does it mean?

Eventually, the doctor handcuffs your left wrist to the long aluminum table he's sat you on, which is bolted to the cement floor. Just for safety's sake, he insists. You don't particularly care for it, but you also don't know for sure that your little group's theory is sound -- and God forbid you actually are infected and do turn. Soap protests plenty on your behalf, anyway, growling at the old man like a belligerent little bulldog. 

But, the doc, cold and aloof as ever, merely waves him off without so much as a word. 

You're freezing, likely un-helped by the cool metal biting into the bare skin of your thighs, the pajamas you'd brought down to the showers not quite appropriate for the frigid, sterile nature of this room. It's a complaint you've yet to voice, for fear that Soap will leave you here alone with the doctor to hunt you down a blanket. 

He's a strange man. Not creepy, per se. But he's difficult to read. Abrupt. Clinical. You don't like him. And he definitely doesn't seem to like you. You don't want to be stuck in silence alone with him. 

For whatever it's worth, he has managed to turn this space into a genuine infirmary. It came equipped with the table, of course, but also a small sink and several empty bookcases that he's now using for storage. The overhead lights are unlike that of any other room in the house -- and you wonder if they're his doing. The bulbs are fluorescent -- harsh and unpleasant. They feel like something a doctor would jive with. The house's power has always been intermittent, hence why most rooms come equipped with an oil lamp, so they flicker every now and again, which is decidedly atmospheric. Not in a good way.

But, it's a fitting backdrop to a situation so fucked up, you don't even know how to begin unraveling everything -- each problem its own cord, all tied up in a giant, tightly wound knot from hell. 

Let's see: you were bitten by a zombie on a mission gone awry, where you willingly placed yourself in harm's way to get your lover out of trouble and bury the bones of people who were important to your -- friend. Said lover is mad at you for disobeying an order, even though said disobedience saved his ass from certain death. Said friend is now caught in the middle of your fight with your lover because you decided to involve him in your stupid little zombie secret first. 

Oh! Also, said friend happens to be a man for whom you are harboring secret feelings of love even though his best friend is your aforementioned lover. And, is this your first brush with a love triangle amongst military pals? No! Your fucked up demon brain has a habit of this. You love Simon. You love Soap. Your love for both men grows on a near hourly basis -- twisting and twining together like some sort of grotesque fun house ribbon candy. You've no idea how to approach it -- how to be honest about your feelings without hurting one or both of them. You don't even know the extent of their feelings for one another, but a little voice in the back of your head tells you it's worth exploring. How the fuck does one broach that topic?

To make no mention that the parallels between this triangle and the last are drudging up a whole host of nightmarish memories that you've spent the last three years attempting to bury. Images of your former lovers' dead, unseeing eyes flickering on the back of your own eyelids any time you close them for too long. The feeling of Mod's shoulder pounding into your ribcage as he tries to escape with you not unlike the feeling you get now when you remember what happened after you were separated from him. 

And on top of it all -- you're not turning. You aren't turning into a zombie like you should be. The most likely culprit? Your beloved father, Inventor of the Zombie Virus That Continues to Plague the World, and his covert inoculation efforts cleverly disguised as an old man slowly losing his mind over the powers of tea.  

Yeah. Normal. Everything is super normal.

..................................................................... Links to: Spotify Playlist Full Fic

[bourtange]

was talking with some people the other day, all at least a few years younger than me, about the pledge of allegiance. i remember the first time we did it in kindergarten i didn't understand what was going on or how everyone seemed to already know the words to this bizarre incantation we were suddenly doing. but i learned pretty quickly since we did it all the time basically all throughout elementary school. there were two kids in my class who didn't do it, both presumably on religious grounds (one was a buddhist and one was a jehovah's witness). i only remember doing it once in middle school, when our history teacher spontaneously made us say it so we would hear the part where it says "republic" so she could make the dumb point that idiots always make about "it's not a democracy, it's a republic!!!" (she wasn't an idiot but that doesn't make it not a dumb point). i don't remember ever doing it again after that although i assume we probably did it in high school once or twice in relationship to 9/11 somehow. i was in 11th grade when 9/11 happened, and on the one-year anniversary our principal felt it was very important for us to honor 9/11 so he marched us out to the parking lot—presumably this would have been the flagpole, but we didn't have one because it was a small charter school so all we had was trailers and a parking lot—and stood around wishing we were back in class

as an adult i only encounter the pledge of allegiance when i go to city council meetings or county board of supervisor meetings. whether i stand or remain seated depends on why i'm there and who i'm with but i don't put my hand on my heart or say anything. the weirder thing for me is that they will have a prayer led by a religious leader. they never call it a prayer, always an "invocation", but it's a fucking prayer. i don't understand what loophole they're using for it to be legal, so probably they're just doing it and no one has ever challenged it because at the end of the day no one cares. i'm certainly not going to call the aclu over it, i think it shouldn't be happening but i don't feel any stronger about it than that

i rarely ever hear the national anthem because the only place anyone ever sings it is at sports games and the number of dicks i've put in my mouth is well beyond the minimum needed to absolve me of the social necessity that i watch sports (not being a goon about it [in the something awful sense of the word, not the newfangled jerkoff meaning], it just never really piqued my interested [piqued is the correct spelling of that word btw if you're talking about interest, curiosity, appetite, etc., not "peaked" although i understand why that spelling would make sense to someone]). a year or two ago a tiktok went viral of someone who was at a restaurant and everyone in the building except for her party stood up out of nowhere and sang the national anthem. or maybe it was just putting their hands over their heart, i'm having trouble finding video of it that doesn't have a bunch of right-wing commentary on it about triggered libs which i don't feel like watching anyway when i found out what restaurant it was—the rainbow oaks cafe in rainbow, ca—i wasn't at all surprised. i worked in rainbow for a time and would sometimes eat at that restaurant since it was the only one in town and i didn't always feel like getting on the freeway to go to temecula. i was never there when they did the national anthem, before that video i had never even heard of a restaurant doing that, but if ever there was a restaurant that would do that it's going to be that one for sure. it's a cop restaurant, in the same way that certain bars are cop bars where cops go after their shift and congregate with other cops to talk about their hard shift of shooting people's dogs and flipping on their sirens to run red lights. everything on the wall was either cop shit, marine corps shit, or hunting shit. there was an "artwork" behind the counter that was an american flag made out of shotgun shells. one time i saw a group of police motorcycles in the parking lot from redlands pd; this meant that a group of cops decided to drive over an hour and cross two different county lines to eat at this place. anyway that job ended way before that video came out but i did stop going there because the vibes were so bad. that's what the national anthem always makes me think of now

[lovevalley45]

#fictober24 - day twenty-four

"You didn't do anything wrong."

original fiction (power payback) (continuation of yesterday's prompt)

word count: 740

Magni stared up at the ceiling. The house was too loud for him to sleep tonight. 

His hearing had always been sensitive. Before his parents split up, he would catch the arguments that they thought they were keeping quiet. The sounds from the family computer - the strange, fragmented pieces of information that his technopathy picked up - had kept him up from the room next door until he turned it off before. 

But he knew that the noise of his mom and Delia in the kitchen was not the only thing keeping him up. 

He had thought about that… thing his dad had dragged him to how mad his mom had gotten about it and kicked him out their house, again. 

His mom told him time and time again that having a Talent didn't mean there was something wrong with him.

And Magni thought he still believed her. 

He pushed aside the covers and climbed out of bed. He couldn't help himself, creeping toward the door. 

He heard Delia, just as boisterously loud as her daughter, upon opening the door a mere crack. 

"Seriously, screw that guy," Magni heard her say. 

"That was my problem in the first place," his mother grumbled. "My mother was right. I should have stayed in Temecula and kept Marcel out of his life." 

Now he wasn't surprised by that. Grandma Georgia made no qualms that she was no fan of his father. But he wasn't sure what his life would be like if she hadn't come back to Bright City. 

Magni's grip on the door tightened. What if she wanted to move back? He didn't want to be ripped away from his only friend, people who would understand what he was going through. People who would understand what he was. 

"I haven't told her," his mother continued. "About Magni. I'm no better than him, am I? I mean, I feel like I'm screwing this all up, Dee."

"You didn't do anything wrong." Magni heard the sound of pouring. "If I had some sage advice for raising kids with Talents from dealing with Prim and Daisy, I'd pass it down to you. But all I can tell you to do is love him." 

His mother took a moment to respond. He counted the seconds - five, ten, twenty. 

"I do. But it doesn't feel like enough." She let out a heavy breath. "Do you ever just want to hold them tight, to try and protect them? Like you don't feel like anything you can do will keep them safe from the world outside?" 

"All the time. I know how this city looks at them - at us," Delia answered solemnly. "But my girls are too stubborn for that. Too headstrong, just like me. I just can't do anything about it. They gotta run free." 

"I know." His mother's voice was shaky. "When I found out he was a Talent, I was scared - scared for my boy. I knew it wouldn't be easy for him. But I never thought that Marcel, his own father, would be who I'd have to worry about." 

"I'll admit to you, Irene, I always knew that guy was bad news. I got a bad feeling whenever he looked at me." Delia sighed. "I never wanted to badmouth him to you, 'cause he is Magni's father. I get why you wanted to keep him in his life. But I don't think he was a fan of his son's best friend being a Talent." 

Magni heard a sniff. "Much less that he was one." 

"I'm sorry, Irene." The chair scooted back. "I'll get you a tissue."

Just as Delia turned into the hallway, he tried to step back from the door. But it was too late. She put her hand right in the crack, keeping him from shutting it on her without squashing her hand. 

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop, please don't tell my mom," Magni squeaked. 

"Relax, kid." She didn't seem mad. Instead, she looked a little worried. “Were we being too loud?” 

“Kinda,” he answered. “I couldn’t sleep, anyways.” 

“Sorry for keeping you up.” Delia smiled. “You oughta go back to bed.” She patted his shoulder. “We’ll be quieter.” 

Magni nodded as she moved her hand, and closed the door. He grabbed his MP3 player and put his headphones on. Soon enough, the sound of Evanescence drowned out the conversation in the kitchen, the computer next door, and all the thoughts in his head.

[davidmariottecomics]

Week 86 - 8/28/23 - A BLUE BEETLE MOVIE???

Hi there, 

It probably isn't news as it's a pretty popular film in theaters right now, but there's a Blue Beetle movie out! And it's a lot of fun! 

If you didn't know, Ted Kord, the second Blue Beetle, is my favorite superhero. There's a pretty good joke in the new movie about the difference between Ted and Batman, and not to step on the punchline, but it boils down to Ted knows how to laugh. He's a character frequently written to have a sense of humor, to know a good joke, and to be the dramatic superheroic straightman when it counts. He is not exactly an everyman--he's a genius, he dresses up in a silly costume, and he's rich--but in a lot of ways, he's just a guy trying to do the right thing because he can. 

And he casts a long shadow over the new movie, which is about Jaime Reyes--fantastically played by the dreamy Xolo Maridueña--who I don't love quite as much as Ted, but who I think is himself a great and important character. He's a very different hero. He's got a sense of humor, he's got a good heart, but his relationship with his family, with his friends, with the scarab, and with the Blue Beetle legacy allows him to be something totally apart from Ted. The movie takes a lot of liberties--it's part Spider-Man, part Ant-Man, part Green Lantern (though... honestly probably better than the past few recent film adaptations of those characters)--but it doesn't run from the truth of who Jaime is as a character, which I think makes it all the better. The best superhero movie projects don't try to be just an adaptation, but to take what makes the hero great, understand it, and share it in a way that makes them more accessible and loom larger as a hero. 

I don't want to spoil anything, but there was one extremely stupid part that made me tear up (out of just finally getting to see a thing on-screen and knowing there's some practical version of it out there and honestly, a little bit jealousy). If you see me, or want to reach out and ask about it, I'll gladly tell you. 

But there's a Blue Beetle movie. And even though I saw it and really quite liked it... I kinda still can't believe it. 

Next week: No blog on the website/newsletter! There is a Patreon post scheduled if you need your fix, going out to all backers at $5 or more a month! But I'm outta town and will see you when I return. 

What I enjoyed this week: Blank Check (Podcast), Yu-Gi-Oh: Duel Links (Video Game), Craig of the Creek (Cartoon), Honkai Star Rail (Video game), My Adventures with Superman (Cartoon), The Broken Room by Peter Clines (Book), Dumbing of Age (Webcomic), Solve This Murder (Podcast), The Venture Bros: Radiant is the Blood of the Baboon Heart (Movie--which my pal Phil Murphy worked on!), Kaiju No. 8 (Manga), Kaguya-Sama: Love is War (Manga), Blue Beetle (Movie--duh), Oldboy (Movie), Witch Watch (Manga), Becca playing a little more Persona 5, Tangled (Movie), Jurassic Park (Movie), D.E.B.S. (Movie) 

New Releases this week (8/23/2023): Godzilla Monsters & Protectors: All Hail the King TPB (Editor--on the latter half)

Final Order Cut-Off next week (8/28/2023--last day to get your preorders in): Sonic the Hedgehog #65

New Releases next week (8/30/2023): Godzilla Rivals: Vs. SpaceGodzilla (Supervising Editor) Sonic the Hedgehog: Endless Summer (A very silly credit) Sonic the Hedgehog: Scrapnik Island TPB (Editor) 

Announcements: Becca is at Cartoon-a Palooza in Temecula on 9/15 & 9/16. It's a cool free all-ages little con, so come on out and see them!

Wanna support me? Consider joining my Patreon! I've got a bunch of cool stuff coming up and already on there. As well as some silly stuff like a tour of my desk, so you can see where the comics magic happens! I've got a bunch of stuff scheduled for September already and there'll always be more! 

I have a webstore! It does look like I'm going to get a small supplement to my Beast Wars Vol. 3 stock, which is nice, but most everything else, I am not going to have more of anytime soon! Maybe give it a look! 

I've still got a few things on my eBay, if you're looking for stuff! But obviously, anything that would get shipped out won't until I'm back!  Pic of the Week: It was National Cinema Day yesterday, which is why Becca and I went to Blue Beetle ($4 tickets to the movies!). But they had to work, so I went and saw a second film, the 20th anniversary screening of Park Chan-wook's Oldboy. And the theater that was showing Oldboy had a special Cinema Day deal on the Blue Beetle backback popcorn bucket, so I did pick it up because that with a popcorn and a drink was still significantly cheaper than the bucket usually is by itself. So here's a photo of Becca modeling it. 

[feelingbiblical]

Help me bring a child molester to justice.

I'm not gonna sit here & pretend like everything between my wife & I are perfect. As a matter of fact, things have never been more difficult. However, I Love her too much to let that stop me from doing whatever I can to bring her just that much more peace. So I'm coming to you guys for help to bring this vile, disgusting piece of garbage to justice for molesting my wife & her sister when she was 5, & her sister was 3. I wish I could rip & tear but my family needs me. So he needs to admit to his crimes & turn himself in to the police by any means necessary. They deserve that much. To know that he's off the streets & never having another potential victim. I just recently learned his name. His name is Mark Rush, & he lives in Temecula, California. I don't care what state of health he's in, or anything else. He needs to rot in jail for this. Here's his Facebook. https://www.facebook.com/mark.rush.5661?mibextid=ZbWKwL

#RushHimToJusticeForThem

[can-i-make-image-descriptions]

[Image ID: Series of tweets from Shane Morris (@/ IAmShaneMorris) on 21 May 19 reading: Y'all wanna hear a story about the time I accidentally transported a brick of heroin from Los Angeles to Seattle? I bet. Alright, let's do this... (a thread)

I was living in Newport Beach, California, kinda just -- trying to figure life out. My buddy Tyler calls e up out of the clear blue, and he's like, "Hey dude, you wanna do the most epic road trip ever?"

I'm like, "Sure."

At the time, Tyler was a boat mechanic in South Florida, so I fly down to Miami, and I end up staying with one of his coworkers for a few days, until I can buy a Honda Shadow 750 for like $2,700. (He already had one, so I got a matching bike so we could share spare parts.)

From Miami, we set off across the United States, staying at the kind of motels along the way you see on movies like No Country For Old Men. If you're going to ride across the United States on a motorcycle, do it on two lane roads. It's worth it.

We end up swinging down through Mexico, and this isn't really important to the story, but we pulled over to rest in the middle of the desert, and these wild horses walked up to us, and were actually like... oddly friendly. They let us pet them. It was super cool. Anyway...

After like 10 days, we made it back into Southern California. He had an uncle in Temecula, and my ex was in Newport Beach, so we both rested for a few days. Riding a bike across the country takes a toll of your body. So we decided to switch it up.

We decided to sell our bikes, and buy a 1979 Dodge Ram van. I want to say we paid like $600 each for it -- $1200 all in. It needed a little work, but the important part was it was all easy stuff. We named the van Cassandra, and wrote our names on the door.

Picture of two people standing in front of a van. Picture of two people sitting on the curb next to a van.

The plan was easy: We'll drive up the Pacific Coast highway, and camp all along the way. We took the middle seats out of the van, so we could sleep in it at night incase it was raining. Then we went to REI to get hammocks for hammock camping.

On our way up, we stopped in Santa Barbara, and picked up my sister. At the time, she was in school at UCSB, and she was planning on flying home to the Bay Area to see our dad, so I was like, "Just come camping on the beach with us." So she did.

2 people standing on the beach.

Driving north, we made it so pretty cool spots, like Bixby Canyon Bridge. All along the way, we're letting anyone who meets us write their name on the van and take a picture. It was... fucking awesome.

Picture of a person sitting on a bridge. Picture of 2 people standing on the edge of a cliff next to the van.

Around Big Sir, our van had its first problem. The rear drum brakes were making awful noises, and locked up. I ended up buying a set of Craftsman tools, end then I did a brake job in the parking lot of a Wal Mart.

While I was there, I was like, "I'm gonna do a few other things." When I got the van, I changed the oil, and... that's it. (I know I should have done more of a tune up, but honestly, the van was running fine. The interior was even pretty nice.)

On these old Dodge vans, the engine access is inside the car, in between the driver and the passenger. I hadn't even lifted it up when I bough it. (I'm an idiot. I know.) So, I decided to change the spark plugs, the fuel filter, and the air filter. I'm So glad I did.

I opened up the engine cover, and sitting right on top of the engine was like, grass, straw and little bits of carpet. A mouse had made a home, right there on top of the engine block. I'm lucky it hadn't started a fire. So I cleared everything out, and changed the plugs/filter.

I remember yelling at Tyler, because he was the one who poured the oil in, and I was like, "How the fuck did you not notice there was a fucking rat's nest on top of the fucking engine block when you were pouring in the oil?!" And he was like, "It's an old car." LOL. WTF.

So anyway, we drive up into Oakland, and meet up with my friends there. We stayed at their house overnight, smoked weed, ate a meal, and chilled out. Then, we set off for Mt. Shasta, and Lake Shasta. (It's a really beautiful lake.)

Picture of a group of people standing in front of the van.

We camp at Mt. Shasta. It's beautiful. The lake was really low, but the water felt great. (Not really critical to the story, but go if you ever get the chance.)

Picture of two people around a campfire. Picture of a bridge.

Finally, we get up into Oregon, into the Cascades, and head into Washington. The whole time, we're hiking, camping, spending time in nature... it's really just one of the coolest experiences of my life. (Not sure what summit this was.)

So, here's the thing about old cars with carburetors - you needs to adjust them for altitude. An ideal fuel ratio at sea level is called stoichiometric -- which means 14.7 parts air, to 1 part fuel. As you gain altitude, you need to lean out your carb jets.

Mount Jefferson is something like 10,000 feet, so as we're driving up, probably around 6,000-7,000 feet, the van starts running way too rich. It was obvious. So... I was like, "Tyler, pull over. I'm gonna lean out these jets."

One a single barrel carb, you're only dealing with a few screws and springs, and basically.. you just kinda guess at it. (LOL.) So, I'm just listening to the engine, and then I would reach over and tap the gas pedal to see how it sounded.

So, Tyler steps out of the van, and I'm hunched over the engine, just twisting on the screws, and I hit the gas, and Tyler is like. "Holy Shit!" At first, I'm like, "Oh my God, something is on fire." So I pop up, and look around and I'm like, "What?"

Tyler, is like "What the fuck is that? I look down at the carb, and I'm like... "I dunno? Which part are you looking at? Does something look broken?" He's like, "No Dude! Look On The Cover!"

I look to my left, on the underside of the engine cover, and there's what appears to be a brick of aluminum foil, and it's taped up with aluminum tape that clamshell cover. Immediately, I'm like, "Oh shit what the fuck?"

So, I stop what I'm doing, turn the engine off, and start slowly prying this aluminum brick off the underside of the clamshell. Tyler is freaking out. (He doesn't do drugs.) He's like, "Oh my God! It's like on cops when they find drugs hidden in the car!"

I get the brick untaped, and then undo like seven layers of foil. They used a Lot of foil on this thing. What I found was a white, perfectly shrink wrapped brick. I thought it was coke, so I cut open a bit of the corner, put some on my finger, and rubbed it on my gums.

Edit of Finn and Jake from Adventure Time with flames and a galaxy background with text reading: Drugs.

If you've ever done coke, you know it's kinda hot, and then it makes your gums numb. This definitely wasn't coke, and I'm not the type of dude who does heroin. (Just, don't do heroin. Seriously. It's no good.)

So, Tyler and I are standing next to each other, when I hear tires on the gravel behind us. Let me paint you a picture: We're standing there with the hood up, clamshell open, side by side, with a brick of pure heroin.

Who do you think rolled up?

Man, a goddamn Park Ranger rolls up behind us. Just so you know, park rangers are the police. They have guns, and they just happen to work in a park. They can arrest you and everything.

I'm holding a brick of heroin in my hands, and there's a park ranger 30 feet behind me. So I reach down, and pretend to go into my tool kit. Thankfully my hands are greasy as hell, and I can pick up some tools. So I slide the brick under the seat.

I pop around with and pretend I'm putting a socket set on a breaker bar, and I'm like, "Oh hey there. How can I help you?" The guy is like, "You guys having trouble?" I'm like, "I'm just trying to jet the carbs." He's like, Oh, I remember doing that when I was your age."

Then he's like, "You ever done it before?" I'm like, "I'm kinda just learning as I go here. We're from California." The dude laughs and he's like, "Here, I'll show you."

So the ranger walks over, and he's like, "I remember these old Ram vans. So much room."

We open up the clamshell, and this guy's knee is like two inches from this brick. Man, I'm trying so hard to act normal, but Tyler? He's not playing it cool at all. He's like, "You know, I'm sure Shane can figure it out. We don't need you wasting your time on us."

The ranger is like, "Oh it's no big deal. Most of the time I'm just telling people to put their trash higher up, so the bears can't get to it." So he's just chatting with us, and I'm telling him how we bought the van and drove all the way up the coast, etc.

Finally, we get the jets set, and the ranger is like, "Alright, you boys stay safe." Lile, he had no clue he was probably two inches away from the biggest drug bust in the history of Oregon state parks.

Once he drives off, Tyler is freaking out, "Oh my God!? What are we gonna fucking do, man?" I'm just like, "Uh, we're gonna make a shit ton of money selling a brick of heroin." So, I wrapped it up, and just stuck it in the bottom of the cooler in freezer bags, under the ice.

Then, we drive up into Seattle, and I call one of my buddies who I know sells a shit ton of weight. I'm like, "Yo ******, we need to talk." I won't go into all the details, but I managed to sell it all to one person. It was lower risk. Plus, I'm not a drug dealer.

For the record, my buddy Tyler wouldn't take any of the money. Eventually, I convinced him to let me give him $600 for the van, so I could say I bought the van myself. (The van was in his name.) But this story isn't over yet...

I end up selling the van to some hippies from Ashland, and then move to Atlanta. About a year goes by, and I'm not even thinking about this van anymore. Then I get a phone call from a number I don't know. I let it go to voicemail.

The same number calls me again, 30 seconds later. So I answer it. "Hello?" The voice on the other line: "Hey, can I speak to Shane?" I'm like, "Speaking?"

Dude is like, hey, my dad gave me your number. He said he sold a van to you about a year ago?

Immediately, I'm like, "Yeah, he sold me a van." The guy is like, "Wow, that's great news. I'm so glad I found you. So, I don't like to talk about this, but I was in jail. I had a substance abuse problem, and I ended up going to jail because I made some mistakes."

I'm thinking, "What's the angle here?" So I'm like, "Oh, well -- that sucks. Anyway, how can I help you?" So the dude goes into this crazy ass long story. He tells me about how he has so many memories with the van. Yeah, it was in his dad's name, but it was his first car.

"I know it's just a beat up old van, but I'd really like to buy it back from you. Dad says you paid something like $1200 for it. I think I'd be willing to go as high as say, $1800 to get it back. The memories are just worth that to me."

The light goes on in my head. Jail. Substance abuse. He wants the van back. He is willing to pay $600 back over what I paid for it. (Street value, bagged up, if you slow-sell it, there was something like $40,000 worth of heroin in that brick.) This dude wanted his brick back.

The guy didn't go to jail because he had a substance abuse problem. No heroin junkie can afford $40,000 in heroin. The guy did tie because he was the plug. So... I decide to make some money.

Picture of Phoebe from Friends doing an evil laugh

I don't own this van anymore, but I definitely know who I sold it to, and I know I can buy it back, so... I start spinning a story. I'm like, "Man $1800 just won't do it. I've put a lot of money into this van, and it's really running like a top now. It's my daily driver."

He's like, "Oh yeah?" I'm like, "Yeah dude. She's in great condition. I redid the carb, the breaks, all the fuel lines, put some tires on it, redid the carpet on the interior, a lot. I've probably put at least $5,000 into this thing." He's like, "Wow, you really did a lot."

So he's like, "Where are you located?" I'm like, "Oh, I'm up in Ashland, Oregon." (Remember: I was in Atlanta.) He's like, Oh, that's not too bad. If it runs as well as you say, I may just drive up there with a friend and then drive it back down here."

So finally he's like, "I respect that you put a lot of work into it. Like I said, the van has a lot of sentimental value to me, and I'm glad to hear you took care of it. I think I could offer you $6200. That's what you paid for it, plus the $5000 you say you invested."

So I said, "Alright, you have a deal." As soon as we hung up, I called the people in Oregon I sold the van to (I kinda sorta knew them through friends), and I was like, "Hey, do you still have that van?" They're like, "Yeah, but it's not running." I'm like, "Oh?"

I was like, "You care if I buy it back from you?" The guy was like, "Dude, I'll sell it for $100 if you just get it out of my driveway." So I was like, "Sold." I booked a ticket to Portland the next day, and then rented a car, and drove to Ashland.

Along the way, I called up the old owner of the van's son, and I'm like, "Hey will you be free to drive up this weekend?" He's like, "Oh yeah. Totally. I can come up." It will only take me two days to drive up there." It was Tuesday. We agreed to meet on Sunday.

I fly into Portland, rent a car, and then get to Ashland on Wednesday. I go to an auto parts store, and buy a battery jumper kit, and some hand tools. I need to get the van running. I go to see the van, and it's sitting there, pretty dusty, but otherwise okay.

TL:DR -- the only thing wrong with the van was a bad battery. This couple just didn't want to spend any money on the van, because they had recently purchased a Subaru Outback. (Go figure. It's Ashland.) So, I changed the battery in an auto parts store parking lot.

Then, I took the van to one of those self cleaning car wash places, and gave it a good wash and vacuum. Honestly, it cleaned up really nice. At this point, I decided to check in with the guy, and kinda fuck with him a little bit in the process.

The guy answers really fast, and he's like "Shane! Hey buddy, what's up?" I'm like, hey, I do want to mention one thing about the van, and I hope this doesn't change your plans about buying it." He goes silent. "What's up?"

I was like, "I don't want you to be mad but, uhm, after I bought the van, my friends and I... we uh... we wrote on the outside of it with permanent marker. I can't get it off. I tried." And I hear him sigh like Hella loud. "Oh, that's fine. I can repaint it."

I'm like, "I want to be fair on the price, because I didn't tell you. So... how about I knock $200 off? I just want to pay whatever is fair to get the marker off." He says, "Thanks for telling me. I'll accept the $200 discount. See you Sunday?" I'm like, "Yup!"

So, next things next: I need to make a fake brick of heroin. So I head to a Goodwill, and buy a medium sized paperback book. It was "The Pelican Brief". I thought that was a funny detail for some reason. (Good book. Also a good movie.)

Then I get in my rental, and took off to Medford, because I couldn't find aluminium tape anywhere near Ashland. I got there, got my tape, and then bought some heavy duty foil in a grocery store. From there, I drove back to Ashland.

Making the fake brick was actually pretty easy. I just wrapped it up the same way I remember the brick being wrapped, and then taped it down with aluminium tape the same way I remember it being taped--kinda like a tic-tac-toe board. They had taped the Shit out of it.

Then... I just kinda waited. On Friday, I got a phone call from the dude letting me know he was on the road, and I said "Hey, my mechanic says we can use his bay in case you want to inspect it." And the dude was like, "Oh that won't be necessary." I'm like, "Oh I insist."

On Saturday, I called a local mechanic and I was like, "Hey, I'm selling my van to some people from out of state, and I was hoping I could give you $50 in case they want to use one of your bays to look under the care for a moment?"

(Car buying tip: Any mechanic worth his salt will take you up on this offer. It's good for both the buyer and the seller to have a mechanic take a look. They know they'll be getting any work on any fix they identify.)

We meet at this local shop on a Sunday afternoon. The guy shows up in a late model, silver Nissan Altima. He's heavily tattooed, and so is his friend. These guys look like real, OG, Mexican bangers. Like, dude is wearing the blue Nike Cortez's and Dickies. It's That look.

Immediately, I realize these aren't the soft dudes I think they are. They're real gangster, they move real weight, and I'm doing something incredibly stupid. I'm about to rip off two guys who look like they bury people neck deep and let coyotes eat your face off.

But I'm there, and they're in front of me, so I gotta go through with it. So I give them a tour. We walk around the van. It's clean. It has tire shine on it. I've washed it, and even waxed it. It looks as good as a 1979 Dodge can look.

The guy is like, "So you've done some engine work?" I'm like, "Yeah, carb, plug wires, distributor, etc." He's like, "Can I take a look?" So I help him lift the clamshell, and there's no rats nest, it's looking clean-ish... and it's sort silent. So I talk...

"When I got in here, there was a Huge rat's nest. I cleaned that out, then I got to work on the carb, the plugs, wires, belts, hoses. It's all new in there." Then, the dude reaches over, and straight up taps the aluminium brick. I start sweating. He looks at me. I look at him.

The first thing that came out of my mouth was. "I didn't bother redoing any of the heat shielding on the clamshell. Honestly, I prefer having some heating coming off the block in the winter, but I can see why you did it. Southern California is hot."

I was trying so hard to play it dumb as hell, and I sold it. He says back to me, "Yeah, this tape costs about $20 a roll, but it's worth it to beat the heat." I laugh, "Yeah, the AC just barely works. I think you've got a leak in the system somewhere."

Then he throws a curveball at me. "Can I take it for a drive?" I'm like, "Oh totally." He's like, "Do you mind if my friend drives behind me, in case it breaks down?" I say, "Oh you go right ahead." At this point, I'm thinking he's going to drive off, never to be seen again.

He's gone for about 20 minutes, and then he comes back. He's got a big smile on his face, and he's like, "Wow, it still drives great. Let's negotiate." So I'm like, "Well, you did say $6,000?" He comes back at me and he's like, "Well, I gotta ship this van back."

I'm like, "Okay, well... what's a fair price?" He says, "You have the title here in your hands?" I say. "Well, actually, I had to do a lost title But I can mail it to you in like a week." (The reality was I did, but I hadn't done the transfer from the couple yet.)

He's like, "Alright, you know, you seem like a good guy. You can mail it in a week?" I'm like, "Yup." He says, "$5000. Because it'll cost me $1,000 to ship. You're a wild man for driving this old beast as far as you did." So we shake hands. It's a deal.

I have a notepad with me, and I say, "Alright, let me write you up a bill of sale." So I write his name, and my name. His address, and my "address" (a local Ashland address where I definitely have never lived), and the "cost" of the vehicle. This is a funny wrinkle...

I said to the guy, "Hey, I'm going to write on the bill of sale that you only paid $1,000 for the van, so you can avoid paying more taxes in California when you go register it." (You pay taxes on the sale.) He's like, "Oh, thanks. I didn't think of that."

Using the hood to press on, I sign my name, he signs his, and then he's like, "Alright, here's the $5,000. Cash." So he hands reaches into his pocket, and when he does, he moves his shirt in such a way that he obviously exposes a gun in his waistband. He pauses.

As he's handing me the cash, he smiles and says, "Thanks for taking care of my van, Shane. I'm relieved to see you left my heat shielding how it was. There's a lot of value in heat shielding. Some might say it's worth quite a bit." He gets this look in his eyes. It's dark.

He continues. "You seem like a smart guy. Smart guys don't talk about things they find. They might even buy new aluminium tape, but be careless enough to leave the roll in the back seat." My throat turned into a knot. Like, my whole mouth went dry as fuck.

He stares into my fucking soul. Like, Into me, fam. Then he gets this big ass smile on his face grabs me by my shoulder, and he smiles, "If you were even smarter, you would have asked for $10,000." The he starts laughing, and the guy he's with starts laughing.

"You know, you're a hustler Shane. What do you do?" I breathe a sigh of relief. "I'm a web developer." He says, "You could have been a stone cold hustler in another life. I've never been hustled before, but you had the cajones to get your money. I like that."

They hadn't checked to see what was inside the foil. The only knew that I taped it back. So I went with it. "Well, you know. I found it when I was working on the van. I just didn't know how I'd ever sell it, so it's been in my freezer for a year now." He busts up laughing.

"Homey, you kept it in the freezer? That's wild man." So then we just sorta chop it up outside this mechanic's shop for about 20 minutes. He and I had the same taste in rap music. I wanted to just keep him happy. I was trying to think of my exit plan.

Finally, he's like, "Alright, you know I don't want this van, but ship it to me anyway. Here's $5,000. Keep the change." To be clear -- he had give me $5,000 already for the van, and then gave me Another $5,000. I played it cool. "Close enough to $10K." I dapped him up.

As soon as they left the parking lot, I sprinted into the mechanic's office where he was sitting, and he was like, "Son, that was the most obvious drug deal I have ever seen. I already called the police." I felt my heart go from 0 to one million.

Then the mechanic winks at me, and he's like, "I'm just fucking with you. Man, this is Oregon. Everyone smokes weed. Calm down. I didn't call the cops." He sees my face, and he's like, "You should have seen the look on your face." (I wasn't amused.)

The problem was, the clock was ticking. I didn't know when those dudes were going to open the foil and realize I'd just hustled them, so I was like, "Hey, if I give you $200, will you let me keep that van parked here for two days until I can get it shipped?"

He's like, "If it's here longer than two days, I'm gonna charge you. If it stays here, it's mine." So I was like, "That's fine. I'll be back" (I knew at that moment the van was going to belong to him. I was never coming back. Most states have laws for mechanics like that.)

I walked out of the mechanics office, and then walked literally seven miles back to my rental, parked at my little motel. Ashland is a small town, and I had picked the cheapest motel. I wanna say it was like a Super 8 or something?

The road this motel is on is like, pretty long and straight. Like, you could see a full quarter mile down the road, no problem. As I'm about 400 yards away from the entrance, I see a silver Nissan Altima pull in, and go to the front office.

As I walk closer, I see two guys get out, and I realize it's the same guys. They haven't seen me, but we're staying at the same fucking motel. So, I start speed walking. When I check in, it took a while, so I knew I needed to hustle so I wasn't seen.

I took off the flannel I was wearing, so I'd be in a white tank top. I folded the flannel up super small, and walked as fast as someone can walk without looking like a moron. My room was on the back side of the motel, upstairs.

Basically, as soon as I cleared the vision line of the back wall, I went into a full sprint, and ran as fast as I could up the stairs, and into my room. No sooner than the moment I slammed my door, I went over the the drapes, and peeked out. The silver Altima was driving around.

I shit you not, these guys parked two spaces away from my rental car, and their room was Directly below mine. It's a damn cheap hotel, so I could kinda/sorta hear them talking. Not word for word, but definitely the vocal tones, plus their TV.

When I saw I was quiet as a mouse, I mean, I just sat in bed, didn't turn the TV on, didn't move, and when I had to pee, I held it. I was terrified. Then... I heard it.

I heard the guy yell. (start all caps) "Motherfucker! I'm going to fucking kill him!" (end caps) Then I hear them screaming, but it's not clear what they're saying. They yell for like 15 minutes. Then they get quiet. My phone rings. It's a blocked number.

I sent it to voicemail. It rings again. Blocked number. I sent it to voicemail. Then, I hear them yelling a bit more, and then I hear the door downstairs slam. I peek out of the little gap in the drapes, and watch them take off.

As soon as I saw the car clear the corner, I left.

I grabbed my backpack, flew down the stairs, and got into my rental. I was getting the fuck out of Ashland before I got killed. I had been on the road about an hour when the guy calls me again, this time, from his real number. Not a blocked number.

I answered, "Hey M*****, What's up?" He's yelling, (start all caps) "We've got a fucking problem! You need to bring me my money, right now!" (end caps)

I was did what I do, and talked shit-- "I take it you're not a big fan of John Grisham novels. You should really give him a chance before you get angry."

The dude flew off the handle. Like he's just shouting. (start all caps) "Motherfucker I will kill you!" (end caps) over and over, so finally I'm like, M****. Calm down. Just listen. I think we can make a deal here." So he gets a little less on edge. "What's your deal?"

I said, "Look, I know you're staying at the (Whatever) Hotel. We'll meet up there. You show me you've got your gun on the hood of your car so I know I'm safe." He's like, "Okay. And?" I said, "Then, I'll take back The Pelican Brief, wrapped in foil."

"... and then I'll give you what you really want. A Tom Clancy novel. Everyone loves war fiction." He got quiet. He didn't say shit. "I'll fucking murder you, Shane. You robbed me. You fucking die from this." Then he hung up.

In 2017, the guy I ripped off for his brick of heroin was found guilty, with four other guys, of raping and murdering a 13 year old girl. They were all prominent MS-13 gang members. He got LWOP'd in his sentence. So it looks like he won't be killing me.

... and that's the story of the time I bought a van with a brick of heroin in it that belonged to an MS-13 gang member, sold the brick, and then sold him his van back with a wrapped up John Grisham novel, for $10,000. Somehow, I didn't die.

/thread /End IDs]

[goldencoastriders]

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[bailbonds2]

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[damianacottos5]

Week 4

Artworks:

starting to develop or rather create characters -> stencils than utilising other pop culture references, yes i have used pop culture references and still plan to its just that i am beginning to make more of a push on my characters.

cutting the stencil

coming back to this work after several weeks i have decided to scrap the initial idea and go down a different route utilising text and imagery

i want to create this composition where this figure says I SAID WHAT I SAID CAUSE I SAW WHAT I SAW idk i relate to it so i wanna use it

i wanna put a character next to it or a speech bubble to give this person/character a voice,

im still unsure on the canvas so i am leaving it to come back to later

however during the process of creating i knew i wanted a collage of sorts and decided to use boarding passes collected from travelling back and forth from home to BNE for school/holidays etc as well as NZ

i then put an image of the canvas onto PS and played around with potential ideas

other works were not really purposeful in terms of creating something that is deep in meaning and feels like a work, i instead took this as a chance to try and place things in different positions against different backgrounds etc.

this was very informative, allowing me to further grasp how to successfully layer these stencils without creating too much congestion that the work becomes unrecognisable/not good

it also allowed me to trial different methods of application, one thing that has stuck with me throughout the process of creating these works was probably a better understanding of when to use positive vs negative stencils to showcase or hide certain elements of the composition without interfering with the whole look or feel for the work.

another takeaway would be a better grasp or feel for the medium as well, like i have found that i am more understanding with the spray-can and leaning in to the qualities that i like about it (overspray, raw, street etc.) , i found that when creating the placement of stencils feels more free, and when applying im getting better and how much pressure to use the angle of the can when to release the trigger which all helps with my process as it betters my understanding of what i like but how to do it?

exploring further in PS

Artists:

OG Slick

Og Slick. (2019). 'Fight Club' [8-color silkscreen print on 250gsm Stonehenge fine art paper with hand-deckled edges. Hand-Embellished throughout by Slick with red and blue spray paint/splatter / 61 × 61 cm]. Gallery, Temecula, California, U.S.A. https://www.artsy.net/artwork/og-slick-fight-club-2

Title: 'Fight Club'

Year: 2019

Medium: 8-color silkscreen print on 250gsm Stonehenge fine art paper with hand-deckled edges. Hand-Embellished throughout by Slick with red and blue spray paint/splatter. (61 × 61 cm)

i like the artists use of imagery and colour

i find that it creates this playful blend between cartoons and real world events that may be occurring

i like that the artist creates instinctively and unconfined allowing for his ability to take over and guide the creative process

the work is very dynamic and i like that, transforming these discrepancies into meaningful connatations rather than accidents

for some reason it reminds me of the famous painting Washington Crossing the Delaware this could be because of the colour palette

id like to somewhat mimic this approach or style, however with my own twist, not mimic entirely but combine the layering of overspray and imagery to create a cohesive piece rather than sepearte enteties joined together

Mr. Brainwash

Mr. Brainwash. (2022). Everyday Life [Silkscreen and Mixed Media on Paper / 91.4 × 91.4 cm]. Galerie Adrienne Desbiolles, Zurich, Switzerland. https://www.artsy.net/artwork/mr-brainwash-everyday-life-2920

Title: Everyday Life

Year: 2022

Medium:

i think what interest me most about this artist is the combination of all elements to create a cohesive piece, i feel like mine is lacking in complexity as most compositions only show 1 or 2 objects/characters -> maybe i need to start thinking more about background foreground middle ground, another thing i could do is to have an abundance of stencils in one composition ,like what if i tried as a experiment with 4/5 stencils all on one canvas like the above work?

theres this blend between commercialism and rebellion but it also kind of puts up this front of fake happiness or forced happiness

Research:

Pierce, S. C. (2023, April ). Depictions of Trauma: How Art Can Heal Invisible Wounds. GUGGENHIEM New York.

art is seen as a form of liberation, the process of creating something out of nothing provides a sense of accomplishment shifting perspectives from negative to positive

its also a tool to process traumatic events from the past

well i wouldn't say never but i do feel like i may have disregarded in my own art the process of understanding or exploring past events through art, and it has actually allowed myself to delve deeper into the subject imagery of my works. For instance not only looking at them as tools but symbols that reflect these events like KM markers on a road, looking at them evokes a memory

art is seen as a form of liberation, the process of creating something out of nothing provides a sense of accomplishment shifting perspectives from negative to positive

its also a tool to process traumatic events from the past

well i wouldn't say never but i do feel like i may have disregarded in my own art the process of understanding or exploring past events through art, and it has actually allowed myself to delve deeper into the subject imagery of my works. For instance not only looking at them as tools but symbols that reflect these events like KM markers on a road, looking at them evokes a memory

Bonvissuto, D. (2025, May). Healing Through Expression: Young Adults’ Journey in Recovery Art Workshop (slideshow). VUMC NEWS.

i found it interesting how art is fostering this community that benefits all wether it be a mode of understanding oneself or even revisiting and finding oneself

just some light reading not really getting to much out of it accept for the benefits of introducing art as therapy to overcome trauma

[temecula-roofing-repair-1]

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[scentedchildnacho]

I went to the bahai center to ask them about a speaker at unitarian universalist church who told us after cancer treatment she finds cow eating the enemy and nuclear power the solution to all harm....

So i explained to me uranium mining cannot ever be an environmental point....it's the belief indigenous peoples have a much longer history and these deposits existed in space for a reason or Rachel Carson and should not have been disturbed

And we observe beef eating because the Midwest was grasslands history before before the uranium bombs of the Great depression and the earth quakes of the dust bowl

So the buffalo migration was disturbed so the indigenous peoples were like well give them this cattle if it's proven effective for the french and that beef economics tend to stabilize relations with some indigenous groups

I was a white doll and it's the symmetry of face sought in milk drinking

I explained I was Lutheran then later Catholic and learning the existential stuff was later explained to me as lutheran or what Luther was...

So observing meat eating is seen as appropriate sacrifice and sense of service....I'm really rich and these are all my beautiful bulls instead of those poor ailing people must be my people also so I'm going to blood sacrifice this animal so my people are not sacrificed

Anyway I was admitting to eating cow there are important enzymes for certain genetic dispositions especially as seen in Vietnam veterans kids....that if you take away beef ritual they can't digest certain medications and these women if called Hindus go completely and violently insane

If they starve they become really really lethal new York immigrant types that helter skelter at people

The speaker said she was religious studies so I was like I'm sorry but I feel bad lorilai biernacki could not just be a steak waitress....calling a frat girl that important will maybe leave her in hell...violence is the worst thing that can ever happen to someone

There appears to be an important treaty to observe between attempting to call North American ethnicity Asian.....because if you finally give them the formality of a steak dinner their just so much more modest and humble and funny

The bahai center told me it's a divisive comment so don't focus on any type of pragmatics it's divisive and not good

In Temecula their position is the indigenous peoples were cattle companies...and this has to do with forestation....like the great north american oak....

I went to the Korean monument on learning to be free from the Japanese from the United States.....I guess when I think about company waitress the blue economy or commercial fishing cannot satisfy many energetic desires and if the Japanese keep energizing my neighborhood like they have legislated it turned into a trash land fill then it's kill the cow and eat it

I have a headache because the Japanese called my neighborhood a land fill so it's kill the cow and eat it for land to use

Statin for heart disease caused myopathy so kill the cow and eat it to be free from Japanese heart care

The fruit trees for cultivation if cattle that romantic period in film

Natural gas would be way better then nuclear...to cure niche ideation

Women should be more like men to have status citizenships.....if your a man you can be Hindus and be really clean that way and observe very low fat body types....I feel like anne frank personally if people won't observe pork...

Transgressive...

Biernacki as violent....that would be Foucault on the inverse people who use gender to create their following.....and the following also starts hallucinating in persecutory ways and starving themselves to death also....I'm sorry but thats neo nazish concentration

That's not Hindus that's demonology....

The women who attacked me in the Temecula project somewhat alluded to humiliations surrounding a mexican ideal person and physical beauty

The standards of Mexican ideal cosmetic forms was in some way very humiliating for them to be around

I think the cu boulder professors were called weird in some way and people peed on or I think really raped can't anymore find any compassion for people here

People should not wish criminality on common women....

I don't speak German to understand this China formation of puppet in art....but apparently puppet is very humiliating for them and sending them to die of him is preferable to running away from there

I think more drug dealing then mentalism.....it can appear to be about mentals....but gwas is millions and millions of people to pharmaceutical....

They get in trouble for drug dealing and these humiliations till its they will kill your population if it won't stop being so unified in obeisance

She wanted to know if I was polish at the bahai center so I said no I'm from Wisconsin but a famous basilica in Milwaukee Wisconsin was polish or east European so it's immigration concerns tended to become a public idea...that's true there are genetic comparisons between the upper Midwest and eastern bloc

Your mother is busy play outside at something

This is the new structure

Doppelganger my east European relations are not bothered by that

I told them the shelter is good for me though it's a lot of people and that's actually safe feeling.....

Disaster anxiety....the drug dealers on the street I think are scary though....

Their really compulsive that someone do drugs for them and it's really aggressive sales I haven't seen or remembered in like 20 years or more

I get frightened to be too alone...and the shelter is at least diverse and people are honest about how they feel so

I told them the goal of the program is that someone or something professional is concerned that I react to circumstances so resistively.....

Becoming to decisive that for my life to go on that I have to be homeless normal people have decided is abnormal psychology I guess

Its just so I realize that I can do the things people do and live I get horrible phobias of ever being

So I have to start by going to the DMV and understanding the real 🆔 process....which is important because trying to work without legislation involved is a huge drama problem of potential injury

Then I have to find a legal group to get my court date to start my real 🆔 process my passport was like from 2000 and my last licence from like 2007 so I don't know how to find my documentation anymore or how to go about applying without a court ordering my records transfered

The police have a system that if I give them my name their computers just draw up my files and that's kind of addictive to civil unrest that that isn't always done

Who are these people that need anything from me

[joehomebuyer]

What steps do I need to take to prepare my house for a fast sale?

In the bustling real estate market of Temecula, selling your house fast can be a lucrative endeavor. Whether you're relocating, downsizing, or simply eager to move on to your next chapter, preparing your house for a swift sale is crucial. To help you navigate this process effectively, here are five essential steps you need to take:

1. Enhance Curb Appeal: First impressions matter, and the exterior of your house is the first thing potential buyers will see. Boosting your curb appeal can significantly increase interest and speed up the selling process. Start by tidying up your front yard, mowing the lawn, trimming hedges, and planting colorful flowers to create an inviting atmosphere. Repainting the front door, cleaning the windows, and power washing the exterior can also freshen up the appearance of your home.

2. Declutter and Depersonalize: A clutter-free and neutral space allows potential buyers to envision themselves living in your home. Declutter each room by removing unnecessary items, including personal belongings, excess furniture, and knick-knacks. Renting a storage unit can be a practical solution for temporarily storing items that are not essential for showcasing your home. Depersonalizing the space involves removing family photos, religious items, and personalized decor to create a blank canvas for buyers to imagine their own lifestyle.

3. Conduct Repairs and Updates: Addressing any visible repairs and making minor updates can significantly increase the attractiveness and value of your home. Walk through your house with a critical eye and fix issues such as leaky faucets, squeaky doors, cracked tiles, and peeling paint. Consider investing in cost-effective updates like fresh paint, modern light fixtures, and updated hardware for cabinets and doors. While major renovations may not be necessary for a fast sale, focusing on small improvements can make a big difference in the overall appeal of your home.

4. Stage Your Home: Staging your home is the process of arranging furniture and decor to highlight its best features and create an inviting atmosphere. Proper staging can help potential buyers envision themselves living in the space and can lead to a quicker sale at a higher price. Start by arranging furniture to maximize space and flow, emphasizing focal points such as fireplaces or scenic views. Use neutral colors and tasteful decor to create a welcoming ambiance that appeals to a wide range of buyers. If needed, consider hiring a professional stagier to ensure your home looks its best for potential buyers.

5. Price Competitively: Setting the right price is crucial for attracting buyers and sell my house fast in the Temecula market. Work with your real estate agent to conduct a comparative market analysis (CMA) to determine the appropriate listing price based on recent sales of similar homes in your area. Pricing your home competitively from the start can generate more interest and potentially lead to multiple offers, driving up the final sale price. Be willing to adjust your price if necessary based on feedback from potential buyers and market conditions to ensure a timely sale.

By following these five essential steps, you can effectively prepare your house for a fast sale in Temecula. From enhancing curb appeal to staging your home and pricing competitively, each step plays a vital role in attracting buyers and closing the deal quickly. With careful planning and attention to detail, you can maximize the value of your home and expedite the selling process, allowing you to move forward with confidence into your next chapter.

[pashterlengkap]

Influential MAGA hate pastor uses social media to target LGBTQ+ kids & teachers

Family members and associates of former President Donald Trump are increasingly associating with Tim Thompson, a Southern California pastor who bullies LGBTQ+ teachers, calls public education “Satan’s playground,” and is using his Inland Empire Family political action committee (PAC) to unite Christian conservatives against public education. Thompson, who leads the 412 Church Temecula Valley, uses his influence to promote Christian conservative school board candidates, The Daily Beast reported. He also protests local schools that employ LGBTQ+ educators. In one case, he complained that a man “dressed as a woman” was teaching 5-year-olds. Related Influential anti-LGBTQ+ Christian activist caught admitting secret plan to defund public schools The Supreme Court could help implement his plan to take billions from public school and give them to religious private and home schools. Thompson has called the LGBTQ+ rights movement “a religion” that is trying to indoctrinate students. He said if parents love their kids, they should remove them from public schools and homeschool them instead. The Colorado Republican Party just literally said the same thing to its members. LGBTQ+ news you can rely on Keep track of the ongoing battle against bias and for equality with our newsletter. Subscribe to our Newsletter today He has used his Our Watch video streaming platform to host anti-LGBTQ+ conspiracy-theorist Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-GA) and speak against “evil” in public schools online videos of people “sticking laser beams into their anus.” In April, Thompson posted a video criticizing Riverside High School’s Pride Week activities, which included a drag performance, a scavenger hunt, and pronoun buttons. He encouraged viewers to call the school to complain — the school canceled the drag performance as a result. “Who’s the pervert that’s allowing this to happen on campus?” Thompson asked in his video about the school’s Pride week. “Somebody had to approve this so somebody at that school district’s a pervert, and I want to know who it is. Let me remind you… Christian men do not allow perverts around children…. So if you’re there on campus, and you’re a man and you’re a Christian, you better do what a Christian man does.” In another video, he complained about two trans middle school students who he accused of being “boys … dressing out in the girls locker room.” In May 2023, he publicly insulted high school drama teacher Greg Bailey — calling him a “perverted” “groomer” who should be fired — for assigning the 1991 AIDS epidemic play Angels in America as optional reading to students. Bailey was placed on a three-month leave after the ensuing local uproar that ensued. In 2022, Thompson named and showed a photo of a Murrieta Elementary School teacher and her wife after the teacher started a “unity club” at her students’ request to help bullied kids feel welcome. Thompson also shared the teacher’s TikTok video telling people not to assume that nonbinary kids are confused. “She is a danger to society,” Thompson told followers. “She is purely a groomer and that kind of stuff has no place in a government-ran school.” “He claimed I was teaching LGBTQ issues but I wasn’t,” the teacher told The Daily Beast. “I simply had a classroom where students were free to be themselves without fear of discrimination. I tried to be myself. I have family pictures up and I have two kids that attend the school I teach at so people knew my kids had two moms and connected the dots about me being queer.” The club only met thrice before the school shut it down due to Thompson’s complaints. The district later placed the teacher under investigation. “Starting that day I started getting very aggressive threats online,” the teacher said. “He had found my TikTok where I just talk about providing inclusive safe spaces for kiddos and for queer teachers. So he encouraged all of his followers to find me there. People were saying I should be stoned. Someone on… http://dlvr.it/T7Rjpz

[guccivuitt]

Things To Do In Temecula

Wine Tasting Adventures: Temecula is renowned for its picturesque vineyards and award-winning wineries. Spend a day indulging in wine tasting tours, where you can sample a variety of exquisite wines while soaking in the breathtaking scenery.

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