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thyme-in-a-bubble · 11 months ago

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sugar & spice 101

an intro to the au

here is a comprehensive little breakdown of this AU and its main characters.

au masterlist | masterlist | join my taglist

Y/n Y/l/n

student at whitlock college | history major

camgirl (later pornstar), under the name Cherry Blossom (UrLittleCherry)

lives in a house off campus with roommates: Steve, Bucky and Curtis

last song listened to on spotify: my hair by Ariana Grande

Steve Rogers

student at whitlock college | fine arts major | on a football scholarship | whitlock college football team

lives in a house off campus with roommates: Y/n, Bucky and Curtis

one of Y/n's friends with benefits

username in Y/n's chat: Like1OfUrFrenchGrls

last song listened to on spotify: little green by Joni Mitchell

James 'Bucky' Barnes

student at whitlock college | sociology major | whitlock college football team

lives in a house off campus with roommates: Steve, Y/n and Curtis

one of Y/n's friends with benefits

username in Y/n's chat: WinterIsCumming

last song listened to on spotify: make out in my car by Sufjan Stevens

Curtis Everett

student at whitlock college | psychology major

lives in a house off campus with roommates: Steve, Bucky and Y/n

one of Y/n's friends with benefits

username in Y/n's chat: Yours4Everett

last song listened to on spotify: crimson and clover by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts

Hugh Ransom Drysdale

student at whitlock college | business major | member of delta phi | whitlock college football team

Y/n's ex-boyfriend

username in Y/n's chat: TittyCokeKingXXX

last song listened to on spotify: mount everest by Labrinth

Ari Levinson

pornstar, but doesn't change his name

username in Y/n's chat: Ari_Lev_Official

real life pornstar doppelgängers just for the vibes: James Deen or Small Hands

last song listened to on spotify: man in the long black coat by Bob Dylan, cover by The Proper Way and Carrie Myers

Nick Fowler

pornstar, under the name Nicky Night

username in Y/n's chat: NickyNight

real life pornstar doppelgängers just for the vibes: Manuel Ferrara or Mickey Mod

last song listened to on spotify: supermodel by Måneskin

Lloyd Hansen

pornstar, under the name Lloyd™

username in Y/n's chat: MrHansen

real life pornstar doppelgängers just for the vibes: Xander Corvus or Johnny Sins

last song listened to on spotify: sweetest pie by Megan Thee Stallion and Dua Lipa

Lee Bodecker

pornstar, under the name Lee Longly

username in Y/n's chat: SurferShlong

real life pornstar doppelgängers just for the vibes: Tommy Pistol or Charles Dera

last song listened to on spotify: love grows (where my rosemary goes) by Edison Lighthouse

Andy Barber

divorced dilf

next door neighbour to Y/n, Steve, Bucky and Curtis

username in Y/n's chat: A_B_Cunt_Destroyer

last song listened to on spotify: sweet by Cigarettes After Sex

list of porn studios we'll bump into in this au:

Stark Sins (ceo: Tony Stark. vibe similar to pure taboo or missax)

Romanoff Productions (ceo: Natasha Romanoff. vibe similar to kink or new sensations)

Scarlet Films (ceo: Wanda Maximoff. vibe similar to bellesa or deeper)

Comet Pictures (ceo: Carol Danvers. vibe similar to erika lust or adult time)

Smash Studios (ceo: Bruce Banner. vibe similar to brazzers or bangbros)

other regulars who follow Y/n:

Cream314159 (Frank Adler)

TearinYoBootyUp (Jake Jensen)

DrownByPussy (Cole Turner)

Cum4Ride (Johnny Storm)

Ddadddy6969

KlassyKinky

8inchStallion

Call_Me_Sir_844

BootyLover47

BongDong420

DirtyTommy69

KyleKyleson (....yes that is a sims joke)

Carl123456

Bby_Grls_Dom

NastyBoi

ItsBradBtch

729AlwaysHard

TheFrogo

UrPervyDaddy398

#lea’s writing #sugar and spice au #camgirl!reader ᰔ #pornstar!reader ᰔ #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut #ari levinson smut #curtis everett smut #ransom drysdale smut #lloyd hansen smut #andy barber smut #lee bodecker smut #nick fowler smut #chris evans smut #sebastian stan smut

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avvail-whumps · 2 years ago

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‘guns for hire’ — interrogation #35

previous · masterlist · next

content warnings: whumpee referred to as “kid” but they’re an adult, mentioned past murder, mentioned past captivity, handcuffs, interrogation

Steven had been waiting for this.

From behind the two way glass, his eyes were focused solely on the man cuffed down to the table, who was absentmindedly picking at it with a heavy sigh. His eyes kept trailing towards the door, before falling back to his lap.

The detective let his gaze wander to his partner, who was also staring at Roy through the glass with a focused expression. She suddenly sighed, running a hand through her hair slowly.

“Once of us needs to stay with the kid,” she murmured, her eyes softening inexplicably when she looked away. “Once they’re done examining him, they’re gonna throw him in some interrogation cell by himself until he’s questioned. Poor kid needs a break, Steven.”

The older man’s stern gaze didn’t falter, despite the infectious sympathy he was feeling in his chest. It must have taken ages just to get the kid to calm down when they’d found him. Getting him into the backseat of the car was hard enough when he’d crumble into hysterics everytime, but it was the long journey back that shook them the most.

How small he’d looked draped in Sharpe’s jacket, swallowed up by the fabric, and that distant, almost hollow look in his fixated eyes once he’d gone quiet. If they had more time, Sharpe wouldn’t be questioning the kid so soon. He would have made sure he was taken care of, but they were on a time limit. They needed to get as much information out of the both of them as possible, as much as neither detectives didn’t want to exhaust Leo anymore.

“I know,” he sighed, narrowed eyes falling back on Roy with venom. “I’m gonna talk to him. Go make sure the kid’s got some water and blankets.”

Summers smirked subtly. “It’s almost refreshing to see you with a soft spot.”

“Hey, don’t push your luck,” he frowned, nudging her to leave. “Go on. Get out of here.”

Summers chuckled lightly, patting his shoulder as she squeezed past him. Once the door clicked shut behind her, Sharpe sucked in a sharp breath, following behind shortly afterwards. His fingers curled around the door knob of the interogation room, popping it open. A instant sour mood washed over him when he met Roy’s eyes. The man had glanced up at the sound of the door opening, shifting in his seat.

There was a suffocating, tense silence between them as Sharpe’s boots thumped against the ground, dragging the chair out from underneath the desk. He took a seat, fingers winding together in his lap, throwing one leg over the other.

Roy stared at him for a long while. Steven tried to reach deep within his eyes, reading the thoughts at the front of his mind, and he reached into his jacket slowly.

“Roy Gatlin, right?” He hummed, a subtle smile lining his lips. The man’s fingers tugged mindlessly on the cuffs, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he answered, his eyes falling back down to his lap. Sharpe hummed, placing the file in front of him. He opened it up, eyes glossing over the first page with scarce interest. He already knew the contents of the profile anyway.

“Alright, Roy,” the detective hummed, his tone sharpening audibly when he spat out his name. “Here’s what gonna happen. You’re currently being interrogated as one of the suspects for not only the death of Jacob Williams, but also for the kidnapping of Leo Whitlock. I’m sure you know him, right? The blond kid we found in your home?”

Roy’s eyes lifted up, and his throat visibly bobbed at those words. His eyes flickered towards the door, before opening his mouth to talk.

“Look, I think there’s been a—”

“I’m not done talking,” the detective snapped harshly. Roy sank back into his seat. He scoffed, shaking his head in discontent. Every time he looked at his face, all he could think about was the poor kid’s blank and broken expression in the back of the car, and his chest bubbled with rage.

“But you’re not just some suspect,” he continued, tapping the profile. “Because between you and me, Roy, I know you’re guilty. You know it. I know it. So why don’t we just skip this little façade you’re putting on, huh?”

Roy’s face went slack, and his eyes crumbled under his. They landed back down to the cuffs, his fingers still on the cold surface of the table. The detective’s lip curled into a smirk.

“Why’d you kidnap the kid?”

Roy bristled. “I didn’t kidnap him.”

“Sure looks that way from where I’m standing,” he shrugged, his arms waving around the room. “We found him in your house. Can you explain that?”

“I can,” he frowned, his eyes darting upwards anxiously. Sharpe really rewarded the little scene he was committed to playing right now; could almost fool him if he wasn’t so adamant. His gut feeling had told him going above the law was the right thing to do — now they’d found Leo and brought him back. “He came to me of his own volition, like, I don’t even know, two, maybe three weeks ago.”

The detective snorted, getting a good laugh out of his words. “Yeah. Right.”

“No, it’s true,” Roy pressed, a slither of urgency in his voice. “He was banging on my door, and he was covered in blood, and dirt, and he looked like he’d been hurt really bad. He was in a really bad state, and he kept begging for help. I couldn’t just turn him away.”

“Did calling the police just happen to slip your mind, Roy?” The detective sneered, his brow cocking in disbelief. “What, that wasn’t your first thought when you saw someone critically injured on your doorstep?”

“Of course it was!” Roy snapped, setting his hands flat on the table in frustration. Sharpe’s eyes darkened at the outburst.

“You better watch your tone if I were you.”

The man bit down on the inside of his cheek, and visibly deflated against the chair with a heavy sigh. His hands went back to tugging anxiously on the chain of the cuffs.

“Look, I’m sorry, I’m just...” He trailed off, and Sharpe leaned forward with the intentions of making him as uncomfortable as he possibly could.

“Stressed?” He finished, tilting his head. “You should be.”

Roy tapped his foot against the ground subconsciously.

“I was going to call the cops,” he started again, this time a little quieter. “But everytime I brought it up, he just...went into hysterics.”

The detective rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat. He pulled out a pen and small notepad from his breast pocket, flipping it open with a languid attitude. He began noting down everything he was saying. It was being recorded from the other room, but he would have preferred to store the information how he liked. Taking the silence as an opportunity to continue, Roy did.

“He kept telling me not to,” he shrugged. “He’d...just get himself wound up and into a frenzy and I was scared it was going to make him worse if I did. He kept saying—”

Roy cut himself off, and Sharpe’s eyes flickered upwards over the notepad. His voice lowered inexplicably, turning into a barely audible mutter.

“That he’d killed someone...”

Sharpe raised a brow. “Speak louder.”

“That he’d killed someone.”

The detective let out a low scoff, his pen screeching to a halt on the paper. His piercing eyes pinned him down for a long moment, before deciding he wasn’t even going to indulge that comment. He shook his head, flipping the page over and moving onto the profile instead.

“You don’t watch the news at all?” The detective questioned. Roy awkwardly shrugged.

“I mean, no. I was away in Morocco for a while, so...” He trailed off. “If he was on the news, I didn’t see him.”

“Pretty convenient.”

“It’s the truth,” he frowned deeply. Sharpe quietly noted down the dates he’d been given, and made a mental note to ask somebody to check up on that later. It certainly helped his cause that he’d been out of the country for a chunk of Leo’s captivity, but Sharpe wasn’t willing to let it go just now.

“You’ve got a criminal record, Roy,” Sharpe sighed, spinning the file around so he could get a better look at it. He watched Roy’s eyes dart towards it for a moment, before slowly dragging them away. “We found him in your house. You’re a Gatlin.”

His eyes shot up at that. Suddenly, a venomous scoff escaped his lips, and a flurry of anger passed over his expression, not bothered about hiding it anymore.

“Oh, Jesus,” he snapped, running a hand through his hair with a firm shake of his head. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

Sharpe’s eyes narrowed at the sudden outburst. He kept his mouth shut in favour of letting him run his own, since he found it was better to let them wind themselves up in these types of circumstances than to keep prying. Judging from his explosive attitude right now, it probably wouldn’t be hard.

“I’ve already told you that I don’t have anything to do with my uncle,” Roy snapped, jostling the cuffs with a metallic clank. “You guys kept me in lockup for days when I got arrested when I was, what, sixteen? For a petty crime like shoplifting, of all things. Yet you lot interrogated me about my uncle like assholes. It’s the same as it is now; I don’t have anything to do with him. I didn’t want to be apart of his work and that hasn’t changed.”

“Are you really sure about that, Roy?” Sharpe pressed, his voice flat. The outburst didn’t bother him. “What about Mikhail Wilson? Does that ring a bell?”

He let out an exaggerated sigh. “I don’t even know who that is.”

“You sure? He was the man who hired you to kill Jacob Williams, which on that same contract, you kidnapped Leo Whitlock.”

Roy chuckled dryly under his breath, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Contract? Do you think I’m a—?” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “You cops are just as prejudice as you always have been. I’m not working for my uncle. Did you even have a warrant for my arrest, or did they just see the name Gatlin and decide to let you run with it?”

Sharpe fell back into silence. The man took that as the cue to be quiet, and he fell back into the chair with a deep frown plastered on his face. It didn’t really matter what Roy said, because once he pried a testimony out of Leo, then whatever elaborate story he span would come crumbling down straight away. The click of the door opening broke him out of his thoughts, and his head turned towards Summers walking in. Roy eyed her up too as she entered, and he shifted uncomfortably as a thought seemed to cross his mind.

“Is he okay?” He asked quietly. Sharpe’s eyes hardened at the audacity of his words, lips sneering.

“Be quiet,” he hissed.

Roy huffed, closing his mouth. Summers motioned for him to follow her, and moved back towards the door without a word. Sharpe gave the man a dark glare as he rose to his feet, tucking the pad and the note into his breast pocket again. The chair scraped obnoxiously against the ground as he stood, not bothering to say anything to the man on the way out.

Once the door was closed shut, he let out a frustrated, heavy sigh. Summers patted his shoulder.

“Think you should talk to the kid, Steven,” she gently hummed, her eyes soft. “He’s barely cooperating right now. I think you should stay with him for a little bit.”

Sharpe’s gaze landed on the door, imagining Roy on the other side. He pulled out the notepad from his breat pocket, and handed it over to Summers with a quiet sigh.

“Alright,” he nodded. “You keep asking him questions. I’ll go see the kid.”

tag list – @unorganisedalienrubbish @d-cs @rabidrabidme @sordayciega @burningkittypoet @whumpawink @mannerofwhump @suspicious-whumping-egg @welcome-to-the-whumpfest @whatwasmyprevioususername @crilex29 @firefly017 @dutifullykrispyland @wibbly-wobbly-whump @there-will-always-be-blood @anonintrovert @justawhumpjunkie @whumptastic-world @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @whumpterful-beeeeee @anonymous1235 @sonder35 @unforgiven235 @whumpasaurus101 @mj-or-say10 @professional-idiocy @seaweed-is-cool @theelvishcowgirl @atomicsandwichprince @sunshiline-writes @peasandpotatos @pirefyrelight @enigmawritesstuff @reverie1234

#guns for hire #whump series #whump fic #whump writing #whumpblr #whump community #whump scenario #whumper #whumpee #leo and roy #writing #my writing #avvail whumps

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georgeharrisonsmiling · 2 months ago

Note

Who wrote songs with George?

Many people. From the top of my head, George shares songwriting credits with these people:

Eric Clapton, Bob Dylan, Billy Preston, Doris Troy, Ringo, Phil Spector, Mal Evans, Ronnie Wood, Gary Wright, Jeff Lynne, Tom Petty, Roy Orbison, Eric Idle and Dhani. Maybe I'm still missing one or two people here.

There are also the Apple Jams where George gave partial songwriter credits to the musicians that helped him with his album like Clapton, Preston, Klaus, Jim Gordon and Bobby Whitlock.

He also shares credit with Paul on a song but Paul said that it doesn't count and George never talked about it. There is one Lennon-Harrison instrumental too but neither of them considered it notable. John didn't even mention it.

#ask #focusing on songwriter credits because otherwise the list would be too long

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savage-kult-of-gorthaur · 6 months ago

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"THEIR SHORT-LIVED QUARTET GAVE THE JAZZ WORLD OF THE EARLY 1950s AN EXIT RAMP FROM THE INCREASINGLY HARD AND EDGY BEBOP SCENE."

PIC(A) INFO: Spotlight on Chet Baker and Gerry Mulligan of Gerry Mulligan's original 1952-53 piano-less quartet with Chet Baker.

PIC #2: The same photograph, used for the cover art to "The Best of Gerry Mulligan Quartet with Chet Baker," released in March 1991 on Compact Disc by Pacific Jazz.

MINI-OVERVIEW: "When it comes to the beginnings of West Coast jazz (Cool Jazz, if you prefer), there was probably no more influential pairing than Gerry Mulligan and Chet Baker. Their short-lived quartet gave the jazz world of the early 1950s an exit ramp from an increasingly hard and edgy bebop scene, where listeners could refresh with music that was like a warm breeze and a cool drink. Even all these decades later it has that same effect.

PART II: After writing for several big bands (such as that of Claude Thornhill) it was Mulligan’s writing that got him an invitation to Miles’ Davis’ select group of 1949-50, which would become remembered as a pioneer of the cool jazz or west coast jazz movement of the early 1950’s. And it is hard to forget a tall, lanky redhead playing a baritone sax in the jazz world of that time.

PART III: After the Davis group packed it in, Mulligan began a gig writing arrangements for Stan Kenton and performing informally in a New York club called The Hague. It was there that he met a young trumpet player named Chesley (Chet) Baker.

PART IV: Baker was much less formed as a musician than was Mulligan and played largely by ear, but the two of them soon began playing regularly together. When the piano was taken out of the club to accommodate a new headline act, the two decided on the unusual form of a quartet with no piano, just Mulligan and Baker backed by a bass and drums (Bob Whitlock and the versatile Chico Hamilton). With the two horns doing 100% of the actual music (although I may get some bass and drum players upset by this characterization) the two had their hands full without a piano to help set the chords. But as you will see, they managed quite nicely."

-- J.P. CAVANAUGH L, "Gerry Mulligan and Chet Baker -- Two Cool Cats," published March 12, 2021

Sources: www.flickr.com/photos/poberlin/2000679776 & https://jpcavanaugh.com/2021/03/12/gerry-mulligan-and-chet-baker-two-cool-cats.

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vicvinegarandhughhoney · 1 year ago

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the harder the rain, honey the sweeter the sun

Fandom: AP Bio

Pairing: Jack Griffin/Lynette Hofstadter

Prompt: Motion Sickness

Jack gets motion sick. That's it.

(TW for vomit)

Read here or below the cut

“Ralph, if you do not let me sit at the front of this goddamn bus I swear I’m going home right now.”

Jack’s late to the school trip, because of course he is, and Lynette watches him from her window seat at the back of the bus with a bemused smile on her face. He's stood outside directly facing Durbin, arms crossed like an army staff sergeant even as his entitled behaviour spills over into brat territory. He apparently wants to sit at the front. Bad.

“I’m sorry, Jack, but you arrived nearly-” Durbin checks his watch. “Half an hour after you were supposed to get here- if you'd been here on time, I might have been able to get you a seat near the front, but I'm afraid there's nothing I can do now.”

Jack huffs exasperatedly, turning to glare at his front-seated opponents. “Half the kids up there could easily swap seats to somewhere further up the bus. It's ridiculous.”

Durbin shrugs. “Maybe, but they're all settled now. You’ll cause commotion if you try to change them all around like that. You know how many rivalries there are in high school, Jack? Hundreds.”

“I don't care whether they declare world war three because of me, Ralph! Just move them around!”

But for once, Durbin is putting his foot down. He shakes his head, and gestures to the door of the bus.

“Not possible. Now c’mon, man. Go sit down before you make things harder than they have to be.”

Lynette can tell Jack is pissed- he has that same vein popping in his neck which appears when someone criticises Henry David Thoreau. Still, he seems to consider admitting defeat on the bus front preferable to embarrassing himself by pushing it further, so with flaming cheeks he storms up the steps and down the aisle towards her. The moment he flops into the seat next to her, she arches a brow.

“Is it so bad sitting next to me?”

He sighs. Shakes his head gently, even as tension remains in every limb. “It’s not that, Lyns. I would’ve got you to sit next to me wherever in the bus we ended up.”

She frowns. “So? What's the big deal with sitting back here then?”

There's a split second where Jack’s cheeks flush even redder, right before he composes himself and shrugs.

“It’s… it’s nothing. Just- you get a better view from the front, s’all.”

A better view? She’s not about to press it, but God is he particularly bad at lying today.

The engine soon starts to rumble, and Durbin stands at the front of the bus to begin his spiel about seatbelts and behaviour. They’re going to the Toledo Museum of Art, not MOMA, but evidently the future reputation of Whitlock is at stake here. Durbin means business.

Jack seems a little distanced during the speech, which is to be expected. Lynette catches him fiddling with his buckle for a while, shifting in his seat to get comfortable, rummaging around in his bag, etc etc. At one point, she reaches out a hand to catch his, hovering as it is over a bracelet on his other arm that he's been slingshotting against his skin for a minute straight.

“Hey, you’re gonna hurt yourself if you're not careful.” She chides gently.

Jack doesn't say anything, merely rouges a little further and pulls his sweater secretively over his wrist so the bracelet is no longer visible. Huh. Odd.

“Alright,” Durbin finishes, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

He swings round to sit down, and almost immediately the bus lurches forward. Lynette doesn't miss the way Jack’s hands leap out to grab hold of the edges of his seat (even if he does pull them away again almost as soon as they find purchase).

She raises an eyebrow in silent question, but he keeps his gaze forwards, Adam's apple bobbing. If she were a betting woman, she'd wager that something's bothering him.

If only she knew what it was.

The first ten minutes of the journey Jack spends with his eyes shut, hands fidgeting in his lap. He flinches at the occasional bump in the road but other than that? He's still as a statue.

Things take a turn around the twenty minute mark, though. He opens his eyes, and there's a slight flash of panic in them- one that he conceals well except when they roll over yet another speed bump, at which point his pupils dilate with obvious fear and his hands reach down again to grip at his seat. His moments of stillness are over, too. Now, he’s shifting uncomfortably in his seat like no position is bearable for his old bones. Lynette grins.

“These Toledo roads too juddery for you, old man? You look like you're worried you're gonna step off with bruises.”

Jack wears an unbelievably fake smile for a second, until another pothole wipes it clean off his face- as well as, apparently, every ounce of colour.

The flush on his cheeks has completely disappeared, replaced by an uncanny pallor that Lynette has only seen on him once, when he was so sick with the flu he couldn't even hold his own head up. She frowns.

“You alright?”

He nods, too quick to be sincere, then hurriedly leans down to rummage through the bag at his feet. From it he withdraws a little orange pill bottle, pours a few into his hand, and tips them back shakily. Follows it up with a meagre sip of water.

Lynette spies the label just before he shoves the bottle right back down into the bag.

Dramamine.

Oh. Oh.

He must notice her expression change, because he suddenly looks at her imploringly. Desperately. She expects him to tell her they need to pull over, but instead he swallows, appearing more nauseated by the second, and murmurs,

“Please- please don't tell anyone.”

Lynette's heart breaks a little.

“Oh, hon, you know that I’d never tell anybody something you didn't want them to know… still, do you want me to go see if Durbin can get a seat change?” Jack’s eyes widen, and she puts a reassuring hand on his arm. “Look, I know you don't want him to know, but I’m sure that if he understood the reasoning behind you wanting a seat near the front, he might… Jack?”

She realises far too late that his eyes widening was not in fact a response to her suggestion, but instead a far more dire warning.

Now, he closes them entirely, trembling a little as he breathes rhythmically. There's sweat beading on the back of his neck.

“M… think I’m gonna be sick…” he murmurs weakly.

It's hardly a surprise. He's so pale now that it's even clear to some kids across the aisle that Mr Griffin? He isn't feeling so hot.

Lynette swears under her breath. Unbuckles her belt.

“Alright, hold on, Jack, just hold on- I’m gonna go tell the driver to stop, okay?”

As she stands, he gropes shakily about the air for her arm, before finding and clutching it.

“W-wait, Lyns, don't go.” His eyes remain squeezed shut. His other hand keeps that vice-like grip on his seat.

Lynette feels truly sorry for him. God, she does. She can see kids from further away in the bus starting to gossip now- after all, she's stood, and her boyfriend is holding her arm like it's the only thing keeping him tethered to this realm while he swallows convulsively.

“I gotta get the driver, sweetheart, but I promise I'll be back.”

She reaches up to briefly swipe her thumb along the jut of his cheekbone; watches him melt, shuddering, into the touch before she reluctantly pulls away and hurries into the aisle. The bus continues thundering along the roads, sending her teetering this way and that while she tries to move forward in a way that makes even her queasy. She dreads to think how Jack’s holding up with the movement.

Eventually, she reaches the front. Durbin is sat talking to Helen, but he trails off when he sees Lynette approaching the driver.

“Ms Hofstadter? What are you doing?”

She ignores him. There isn't time for explanatory remarks.

“Excuse me, driver?”

The guy’s wearing shades and a little earpiece (way too high-end for goddamn Toledo) and at first he doesn't seem to hear her, so she clears her throat and tries again.

“Excuse me? Driver?”

He starts, eyes flitting from the road to her desperate expression.

“Uh, can I help you?”

“I need you to pull over.”

Durbin leans forward to tap her on the shoulder.

“Uh, Miss Hofstadter, I’m afraid we can't just-”

“Ralph, it's important.”

“-stop the bus for every whim, we'll be there soon and-”

“Ralph.” Lynette says brusquely, turning to look at him. “If we don't stop this bus right now, Jack is going to… Ralph… everywhere.”

Durbin frowns, mouthing the words as if to make sense of them. It takes a few seconds, but soon his own eyes are widening with realisation.

“He’s…?”

“Motion sick.” Lynette confirms with a nod. “And he's not looking good back there, Durbs. We have to pull over. Now.”

Thankfully, Durbin sighs. Nods to the driver, who's been listening in to the conversation and looks pretty damn eager to spare his bus from the havoc which could ensue if he doesn't follow Lynette's instructions.

The moment she knows the bus is starting to slow, she speedwalks back up the aisle towards Jack, who’s now hunched over, whole body trembling slightly. He has a fist held to his mouth, the other arm now slung protectively around his stomach.

“Hey, sweetheart?” She crouches down next to him in the aisle, uncaring that everybody’s eyes are now on them. “Jack?”

She rubs him gently on the arm and he rears his head, looking utterly miserable.

“We’re pulling over now.” She soothes, stroking the wispy hair at the back of his neck, damp with sweat. “Just a few more seconds and we can get off this bus, alright, hon?”

He closes his eyes again, groaning softly as at last the movement grinds to a halt.

“Alright, up we get, sweetheart. That’s it. Nice and slow.”

Clearly too sick to give a shit about how he's perceived, Jack lets Lynette half haul him up from his seat, her hand remaining on the small of his back as she walks him down the aisle of the bus towards the door. His steps are wobbly. Everything's still trembling.

By the time their shoes hit the asphalt, Jack’s footsteps grow more urgent, and Lynette follows him into the woods by the roadside. He’s clearly hoping to get far enough in that his unravelling isn't witnessed by the multitude of high schoolers only metres away, many now with their faces pressed against the glass to see what's happening. Unfortunately, though, his body isn't so kind as to let him get out of sight before he doubles over, retching painfully.

Lynette’s brow knits with concern. “Oh, Jack.”

Her hand moves to rub circles into his quivering back, all his muscles taut with anticipation. One of his fists is still held vaguely in front of his mouth, the other hand splayed out on his knee.

“It’s alright, hon. Just relax, okay? You’ll feel better afterwards, I promise.”

He shakes his head briefly, wordlessly, but immediately ducks back down again as his body makes another attempt at expelling everything in his stomach. This time it’s pretty successful, and Lynette turns her head away, eyes closing with sympathy at the sound of his breathless heaving.

“There we go. Good job, Jack. You’re doing so good, sweetheart.”

She continues to reassure him for another minute give or take, wincing every so often at how violent and painful everything appears to be, until at last it dissipates into panting and the gentler sound of Jack spitting into the dirt.

Accompanied, at last, by a weak exhalation that sounds more like a sob.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re alright… Feel any better?”

Shakily, he pulls himself upright and swipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. Turns to her, tears of exertion and defeat running down his cheeks.

Nods.

“D-don’t feel so s-sick, just… just t-tired. And- and e-embarrassed.”

Lynette surreptitiously takes his hand. Squeezes it. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Jack. These things happen, right?”

“But the kids-”

“The kids have 15 second attention spans- they’ll see a sculpture that looks kinda like a penis at the museum and this’ll be a distant memory.”

Jack swallows, still shaky. “I- I guess.”

“You ready to head back to the bus, hon? Durbs is bound to let us sit near the front now, and you can take some more Dramamine as well. I’m pretty sure you puked up that other stuff.”

The tips of his ears redden slightly as he nods. He still looks mortified, but at least when Lynette gently tugs on his hand, he follows her back to the bus (even if he does avoid looking up at any of the windows).

There's a lively buzz of chatter when they approach, but the moment they ascend the stairs, the whole vehicle sinks into silence. Jack’s grip on Lynette's hand tightens.

“Hey, Jack.” Durbin says, voice soft. Lynette's sure this tone frustrates Jack more than anything. He isn't weak. He isn’t delicate.

Well, maybe he is a little, but that's okay. It doesn't mean he needs to be spoken to like he's about to crumple at any moment.

“I got a few of the kids to move.” Durbin continues. “Hopefully the seats up front’ll be, uh, better for you. Do you…” He looks up tentatively to Lynette now. “Does he need a bag or something? We carry a few for the travel sick kids but-”

Jack pulls away from Lynette and walks quickly to the new seats, ignoring Durbin’s small plea for him to hang on. Lynette watches him slink into the row of two seats that's now free and buckle himself into the one nearest the window, cheeks aflame and eyes fixed on the scenery outside.

She turns back to Durbin. “I’ll take one of the bags just in case.” She says in a low voice, slipping the one she receives into her pocket. “But for the love of God don't compare Jack to a travel sick kid, and don’t speak about him like he isn't there.”

Durbin stammers. “I- I wasn’t trying to-”

Lynette sighs. “I know… I know. He’s just feeling a little sorry for himself, and the last thing he needs is more humiliation- even if it isn't intentional.”

She gives him a small smile to show she isn't really upset (her tone often slips into confrontational when Jack’s wellbeing is concerned) and quickly slips into the seat beside her boyfriend. He’s still looking blankly out the window, Adam's apple bobbing every so often to conceal the rising emotion.

Carefully, she reaches down for his bag (already placed at his feet by a student- probably Heather) and retrieves the little bottle of Dramamine. She measures out a couple of pills and holds them in the palm of her outstretched hand for Jack.

“Hey. Sweetheart. Gonna take some more meds for me?”

He turns slowly towards her, cheeks still stained with tear tracks. Thankfully, he doesn't put up a fuss about the Dramamine- merely tips them back and settles into his seat. It's a clear sign that he's exhausted.

“Here.” She offers him his bottle of water. “You know what I say about dry-swallowing shit. C’mon. Chase it down with something. I think you need the fluids anyway.”

His hands are still trembling when he takes the water bottle (it could be why he was reluctant to get it himself), and he swallows the sips extra cautiously like he's still afraid he’ll hurl at any moment.

“Good job, Jack.” She whispers.

At the front of the bus, Durbin stands up briefly, directing a questioning glance and a thumbs up towards Lynette.

We good to go?

She gives him a reciprocal thumbs up.

Good to go.

In truth, she really isn't sure whether Jack is good to go. She doesn't know how travel sickness works, whether he's going to be fine now that he's got everything out of his system or whether the moment the engine starts back up again, she’ll need to reach for that bag in her pocket. What she does know, however, is that the longer they stay stopped here, the more Jack is going to feel the weight of everybody's eyes on his. The more the shame will grow.

So she sits back as the bus rumbles to life, and reaches out to take his clammy hand in hers.

It doesn't take long for him to drift off- the medication, the stress, and pure physical exhaustion render sleep inevitable. He tries to fight it at first, perhaps still too self-conscious to submit to yet another display of ‘weakness’, but his blinks grow more languid by the second, and his breaths begin to slow of their own accord. The endless Ohio roads melt into one great snaking blob in the steadily misting window pane.

His chin tips forward a few times, then jerks back up, before at last Lynette eases his head against her shoulder, squeezing his hand.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart.” She murmurs into his ear as the kids chatter about nothing important around them.

He sinks fully against her. Clearly, permission was all he needed.

She snakes a hand around his back so she can wrap her arm around him and subtly stroke his hair. Pulls him even closer. Presses a kiss to his forehead.

Half a mile down the road, they’ll arrive at their destination and the kids will file out of the bus. Some will pause in the aisle, curiosity piqued.

“Is Mr Griffin alright?” They’ll whisper, touchingly conscious of keeping their voices down.

Lynette will smile gently. “He hasn’t been feeling very well, that's all. He’ll be alright soon, I promise.”

They’ll nod their heads sympathetically, and soon will file off like the rest. Jack and Lynette will be left alone. Even the bus driver will abandon his post for the time being.

Still, Jack will sleep.

Still, Lynette will stay.

#ap bio #ap bio nbc #jack griffin #sickfic #whump #motion sickness #bad things happen bingo #tw emetophobia

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vomitdodger · 2 years ago

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GREAT article.

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babyjujubee · 2 years ago

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Isiah Whitlock Jr. as Bob. Cocaine Bear (2023)

#isiah whitlock jr.#cocaine bear #babyjujubee #adoring alden ehrenreich #tumblr #gif #google

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dorothydalmati1 · 2 months ago

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Family Guy Season 12 Episode 19: Meg Stinks!

Written by Danny Smith

Storyboard by Rob Bou-Saab, Dave Sherburne & Matt Whitlock

Directed by Bob Bowen

Directing assistance by Jacob Hair

#fox #family guy #meg griffin

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jpbjazz · 2 months ago

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LÉGENDES DU JAZZ

JOE ALBANY, LE PIANISTE OUBLIÉ

Né le 24 janvier 1924 à Atlantic City, au New Jersey, Joseph Albany avait d’abord commencé à jouer de l’accordéon avant de passer au piano au high school. Albany avait été particulièrement influencé par Bud Powell et Art Tatum.

DÉBUTS DE CARRIERE

Après avoir joué avec le groupe de Leo Watson en 1942, Albany avait poursuivi sa carrière sur la Côte ouest l’année suivante comme membre du groupe de Benny Carter. Il avait également joué avec Stan Getz. Albany avait fait ses débuts sur disque en 1945 en participant aux sessions “Honey” et “Stompin' At The Savoy” avec le big band de Georgie Auld, mais il s’était surtout fait remarquer en enregistrant avec Lester Young en 1946. Au cours d’une émission de radio diffusée depuis le Finale Club de Los Angeles en mars de la même année, Albany avait accompagné Charlie Parker et Miles Davis (qui avait seulement vingt ans à l’époque), dans le cadre d’une performance qui avait rappelé le duo de Louis Armstrong et Earl Hines. Cette performance se déroulait peu avant que Parker soit admis au Camarillo State Mental Hospital après sa désastreuse session d’enregistrement du 29 juillet 1946. La session comprenait les classiques "Blue N' Boogie", "Anthropology", "Billie's Bounce", "Ornithology" et "All the Things You Are".

Même si sa collaboration avec Young et Parker avait établi sa réputation, la carrière d’Albany avait commencé à battre de l’aile à la fin des années 1940, en grande partie en raison de sa dépendance envers l’héroïne et l’alcool, qui l’avait forcé à faire de nombreux séjours en prison et dans les hôpitaux. Les problèmes de consommation d’Albany avaient également ruiné en grande partie sa vie personnelle, et provoqué l’échec de ses trois mariages. Sa seconde épouse s’était suicidée, et sa troisième avait presque été emportée par une overdose.

On avait pratiquement perdu toute trace d’Albany depuis qu’il avait enregistré l’album à succès “The Right Combination” (1957) avec un trio peu conventionnel formé de Warne Marsh au saxophone et de Bob Whitlock à la contrebasse. Par la suite, Albany avait écrit des chansons pour la chanteuse Anita O'Day. Il avait aussi travaillé avec Charles Mingus en 1963.

DERNIERES ANNÉES

Après s’être retiré en Europe dans les années 1970, Albany avait travaillé en Angleterre, en Italie, au Danemark et en France. Au cours de cette période, avait enregistré plus de dix albums, dont “Joe Albany At Home’’ en 1971. Albany avait enchaîné avec “Proto-Bopper” l’année suivante. En 1973, Albany avait enregistré deux pièces en trio intitulées “Birdtown Birds” et ‘’Birdtown Blues”. L’année suivante, il avait participé à une session avec le contrebassiste Niels-Henning Orsted Pedersen à Copenhague.

Au cours de cette période, Albany s’était également produit en solo à Milan, en Italie. Il avait aussi enregistré deux albums à Paris: “This Is For My Friends’’ (1976) et “Plays George Gershwin & Burton Lane” (1978). L’album “The Albany Touch’’ (1977), qui avait été enregistré en Californie, comprenait un duo avec le violoniste Joe Venuti intitulé “Joe + Joe.’’

En 1979, Albany avait dirigé un trio avec le contrebassiste Art Davis et le batteur Roy Haynes. Le groupe avait rendu hommage à Charlie Parker dans le cadre d’un album intitulé “Bird Lives!” la même année. En 1981, Albany avait également fait équipe avec le contrebassiste George Duvivier, le guitariste Al Gofa et le le batteur Charlie Persip dans le cadre de l’album “Portrait Of An Artist’’, qui avait été son dernier enregistrement en carrière.

Joe Albany est mort d’une crise cardiaque au St. Luke's-Roosevelt Hospital Center de

New York le 12 janvier 1988. Il était âgé de soixante-trois ans. Ont survécu à Albany ses filles Amy Baer et Sybil Hartwell, ainsi que son fils Joe Albany Jr. Albany résidait à Manhattan.

En 1980, Albany, avait fait l’objet d’un documentaire intitulé Joe Albany... A Jazz Life. Le film, qui était dirigé par Carole Langer, s’était mérité le ruban bleu du Festival du Film de Londres ainsi qu’un prix du Festival international du Film de Chicago. La fille d’Albany, Amy-Jo, avait rendu hommage à son père dans une biographie intitulée Low Down: Junk, Jazz, and Other Fairy Tales from Childhood. Le livre avait été adapté pour le cinéma par le réalisateur Jeff Preiss sous le titre de Low Down en 2014. Amy-Jo avait d’ailleurs co-écrit le scénario du film avec Topper Lilien. Le film mettait en vedette John Hawkes, Elle Fanning, Lena Headey et Glenn Close.

Albany aussi également le père biologique de Benjamin David Goldberg, qui avait été adopté par une autre famille après sa naissance. Également musicien, Goldberg avait étudié la percussion à Juilliard. Il avait aussi joué à Broadway et fait partie d’un groupe de l’armée.

Même s’il est aujourd’hui pratiquement inconnu des amateurs de jazz, Albany est considéré comme une légende du jazz moderne et un des plus importants pianistes de l’histoire du bebop. Charlie Parker lui vouait également une grande estime et le considérait comme son pianiste préféré.

Outre Parker, Albany s’était produit avec de grands noms du jazz comme Miles Davis, Lester Young, Roy Haynes, Howard McGhee, Warne Marsh, Niels-Henning Orsted Pedersen, George Duvivier, Boyd Raeburn, Benny Carter, Georgie Auld et Charles Mingus. Grand innovateur, Albany expérimentait avec le rythme et le tempo un peu de la façon dont Thelonious Monk le faisait avec l’harmonie. On peut entendre le résultat de ces expérimentations dans des pièces d’inspiration latine comme "Little Suede Shoes" et "Barbados’’, deux compositions associés à Charlie Parker. En plus d’avoir interprété plusieurs compositions de Parker et de nombreuses pièces avec qui il avait été associé, Albany avait rendu hommage au saxophoniste dans le cadre d’une composition intitulée "Charlie Parker Blues".

SOURCES:

BAILEY, C. Michael. ‘’Joe Albany: Now's The Time.’’ All About Jazz, 3 septembre 2015.

‘’Joe Albany.’’ Wikipedia, 2024.

‘’Joe Albany.’’All About Jazz, 2024.

‘’The drug-wracked life of jazz great Joe Albany.’’ The Denver Post, 13 juin 2016.

‘’Joe Albany, 63, Dies; Master of Jazz Piano.’’ New York Times, 16 janvier 1988.

#jazz #french #history

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docrotten · 3 months ago

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TWILIGHT ZONE: THE MOVIE (1983) – Episode 280 – Decades of Horror 1980s

“Th-th-th-that’s all, Ethel!” Poor Ethel. It’s bad enough being married to Fred, but now, Anthony has sent Ethel to cartoon land, only to be eaten by an animated dragon. Join your faithful Grue Crew – Crystal Cleveland, Bill Mulligan, Chad Hunt, and Jeff Mohr – as they discuss the infamous Twilight Zone: The Movie (1983).

Decades of Horror 1980s Episode 280 – Twilight Zone: The Movie (1983)

Join the Crew on the Gruesome Magazine YouTube channel! Subscribe today! Click the alert to get notified of new content! https://youtube.com/gruesomemagazine

Gruesome Magazine is partnering with the WICKED HORROR TV CHANNEL (https://wickedhorrortv.com/) which now includes video episodes of Decades of Horror 1980s and is available on Roku, AppleTV, Amazon FireTV, AndroidTV, and its online website across all OTT platforms, as well as mobile, tablet, and desktop.

Synopsis: Prologue: a driver has a big surprise with his passenger; Segment 1 – “Time Out”: A bigot hates Jews, Blacks, Arabs, and Asians and is transported to situations where he feels the effects of his hatred; Segment 2 – “Kick the Can”: In a nursing home, the elder inhabitants learn that their minds can keep them young; Segment 3 – “It’s a Good Life”: a traveler hits a boy on a bicycle with her car and takes the boy home. Soon she learns that the powerful boy brought her home indeed; Segment 4 – “Nightmare at 20,000 feet”: a writer is scared to fly and soon he sees a monstrous creature destroying the airplane engines during a stormy night.

Cast & Crew

Music by: Jerry Goldsmith

Makeup Department:

Craig Reardon (special makeup effects artist) (segments 1-4)

Bob Westmoreland (makeup artist) (segment 1) (as Robert Westmoreland)

John M. Elliott Jr. (makeup artist) (segments 2-4) (as John Elliott)

Rob Bottin (special makeup effects artist / special makeup effects designer) (segment 3)

Margaret Prentice (special makeup effects cosmetic painter: Rob Bottin crew) (segment 3) (uncredited)

Michael McCracken (special makeup effects artist) (segment 4)

Michael Shawn McCracken (special makeup effects assistant) (segment 4) (uncredited)

Visual Effects by:

David Allen (visual effects) (segment “4”) (as David Allan)

Jim Aupperle (end titles/compositing: titles)

Jim Danforth (visual effects/effects photography/matte artist) (segment “4”)

Albert Whitlock (matte consultant) (segment “4”) (uncredited)

Animation Department: Sally Cruikshank (cartoon supervisor) (segment “3”)

Prologue:

Writer/Director: John Landis

Selected Cast:

Dan Aykroyd as Passenger / Ambulance Driver

Albert Brooks as Car Driver

Segment 1: “Time Out”

Writer/Director: John Landis

Selected Cast:

Vic Morrow as Bill Connor

Doug McGrath as Larry

Charles Hallahan as Ray

Rainer Peets as German Officer (credited as Remus Peets)

Kai Wulff as German Officer

Sue Dugan as Waitress No. 1

Debby Porter as Waitress No. 2

Steven Williams as Bar Patron

Annette Claudier as French Monther

Joseph Hieu as Vietnamese

Al Leong as Vietnamese

Stephen Bishop as Charming G.I.

Thomas Byrd as G.I.

Vincent J. Isaac as G.I.

William S. Taylor as G.I. (credited as William B. Taylor)

Domingo Ambriz as G.I.

Eddy Donno as K.K.K.

Michael Milgrom as K.K.K.

John Larroquette as K.K.K.

Norbert Weisser as Soldier No. 1

Segment 2: “Kick the Can”

Director: Steven Spielberg

Writer: George Clayton Johnson, Richard Matheson, Melissa Mathison (as Josh Rogan); George Clayton Johnson (story)

Selected Cast:

Scatman Crothers as Mr. Bloom

Bill Quinn as Mr. Leo Conroy

Martin Garner as Mr. Weinstein

Selma Diamond as Mrs. Weinstein

Helen Shaw as Mrs. Dempsey

Murray Matheson as Mr. Agee

Peter Brocco as Mr. Mute

Priscilla Pointer as Miss Cox

Scott Nemes as Young Mr. Weinstein

Tanya Fenmore as Young Mrs. Weinstein

Evan Richards as Young Mr. Agee

Laura Mooney as Young Mrs. Dempsey

Christopher Eisenmann as Young Mr. Mute

Richard Swingler as Mr. Gray Panther

Alan Haufrec as Mr. Conroy’s Son

Cheryl Socher as Mr. Conroy’s Daughter-in-Law

Elsa Raven as Nurse No. 2

Segment 3: “It’s a Good Life”

Director: Joe Dante

Writer: Richard Matheson; Jerome Bixby (from a story by)

Selected Cast:

Kathleen Quinlan as Helen Foley

Jeremy Licht as Anthony

Kevin McCarthy as Uncle Walt

Patricia Barry as Mother

William Schallert as Father

Nancy Cartwright as Ethel

Dick Miller as Walter Paisley

Cherie Currie as Sara

Bill Mumy as Tim

Jeffrey Bannister as Charlie

Segment 4: “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet”

Director: George Miller

Writer: Richard Matheson; Richard Matheson (based on a story by)

Selected Cast:

John Lithgow as John Valentine

Abbe Lane as Sr. Stewardess

Donna Dixon as Jr. Stewardess

John Dennis Johnston as Co-Pilot

Larry Cedar as Creature

Charles Knapp as Sky Marshal

Byron McFarland as Pilot Announcement

Christina Nigra as Little Girl

Lana Schwab as Mother (credited as Lonna Schwab)

Margaret Wheeler as Old Woman

Eduard Franz as Old Man

Margaret Fitzgerald as Young Girl

Jeffrey Weissman as Young Man

Jeffrey Lampert as Mechanic No. 1

Frank Toth as Mechanic No. 2

Carol Serling as Passenger

It’s another double tap for the ’80s Grue-Crew. This time, it’s Twilight Zone: The Movie (1983), first covered by a completely different crew on episode 104 in March 2017. Inspired by Rod Serling’s landmark TV series, the film includes new versions of three classic tales, one new segment, and a loose wraparound. Joe Dante, George Miller, Stephen Spielberg, & John Landis handle the directing chores with a cast including Dan Aykroyd, Albert Brooks, Vic Morrow, Scatman Crothers, Kathleen Quinlan, and many, many more. The film is also shrouded in tragedy and controversy. There will most definitely be plenty to discuss.

At the time of this writing, Twilight Zone: The Movie (1983) is available to stream from Kanopy, Plex, Roku, and multiple PPV sources.

Every two weeks, Gruesome Magazine’s Decades of Horror 1980s podcast will cover another horror film from the 1980s. The next episode’s film, chosen by Chad, will be George A. Romero’s Day of the Dead (1985)! The third entry in Romero’s “Dead” series is a showcase for Joe Pilato’s performance as Captain Rhodes and the special effects magic of Tom Savini et al.

Please let them know how they’re doing! They want to hear from you – the coolest, grooviest fans – so leave them a message or comment on the Gruesome Magazine Youtube channel, on the Gruesome Magazine website, or email the Decades of Horror 1980s podcast hosts at [email protected].

Check out this episode!

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krispyweiss · 1 year ago

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Quarter Notes: Blurbs & Briefs from Sound Bites

- In this edition: Bobby Whitlock; Dead & Company; the Rascals; & Fleetwood Mac

DOMINO WHITLOCK IN BEALE STREET WALK OF FAME: Derek and the Dominos keyboardist Bobby Whitlock was inducted to the Beale Street Walk of Fame during a May 19 ceremony.

“In all my life, I have never dreamt of being surrounded by and being a part of such greatness,” Whitlock said in a statement carried by American Songwriter magazine. “I am truly grateful and honored to be recognized as a part of Memphis musical history.”

ART EXHIBIT TO ACCOMPANY DEADCO VEGAS RESIDENCY: Las Vegas’ Animazing gallery will host “Visions of the Dead: A Grateful Dead Art and Photography Exhibition,” during Dead & Company’s residency at the Sphere.

Featuring pieces by percussionist Mickey Hart, poster artist Stanley Mouse, photographer Jay Blakesberg & others, the exhibit runs through July 14.

RASCALS BOX SET ON TAP: It’s Wonderful: The Complete Atlantic Studio Recordings, will feature the Rascals’ first four albums in mono and stereo mixes, 14 previously unreleased tracks and single edits across 152 cuts. It’s due May 30.

EARLY MAC COMING BACK: Fleetwood Mac’s early years - the pre-Buckingham-Nicks albums spanning Then Play On through Heroes are Hard to Find - are the focus of Best of - 1969-1974. The 19-track compilation is due July 26.

5/20/24

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projazznet · 5 months ago

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Victor Feldman – A Taste Of Honey And A Taste Of Bossa Nova

Victor Feldman – piano, vibes Buddy Collette – tenor sax, flute Leroy Vinnegar – bass Ron Jefferson – drums Laurindo Almeida – guitar Clifford Scott – tenor sax, flute Al McKibbon – bass Frank Guerrero – percussion Nino Tempo – tenor sax Bob Whitlock – bass Colin Bailey – drums

#victorfeldman #bossanova #hardbop #latinjazz #projazz #projazznet

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ulkaralakbarova · 11 months ago

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Meet Jack Foley, a smooth criminal who bends the law and is determined to make one last heist. Karen Sisco is a federal marshal who chooses all the right moves … and all the wrong guys. Now they’re willing to risk it all to find out if there’s more between them than just the law. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: Jack Foley: George Clooney Karen Sisco: Jennifer Lopez Buddy Bragg: Ving Rhames Maurice ‘Snoopy’ Miller: Don Cheadle Glenn Michaels: Steve Zahn Marshall Sisco: Dennis Farina Adele Delisi: Catherine Keener Kenneth: Isaiah Washington Richard Ripley: Albert Brooks José ‘Chino’ Chirino: Luis Guzmán Moselle: Viola Davis Bank Employee: Jim Robinson Bank Customer: Mike Malone Bank Teller: Donna Frenzel Bank Cop: Manny Suárez Bank Cop: Keith Hudson Lulu: Paul Soileau Pup: Scott Allen Parking Lot Woman: Susan Hatfield White Boxer: Brad Martin Himey: James Black Daniel Burdon: Wendell B. Harris Jr. Library Guard: Chuck Castleberry Shock Lock FBI Man: Chic Daniel White Boy Bob: Keith Loneker Old Elevator Lady: Connie Sawyer Old Elevator Gent: Philip Perlman Raymond Cruz: Paul Calderon Officer Grant: Gregory Alpert Ripley Personnel: Mark Brown Ripley Receptionist: Sandra Ives Ripley Guard: Joe Hess Waitress: Betsy Monroe Philip: Wayne Pére Andy: Joe Chrest Third Ad Guy: Joe Coyle Midge: Nancy Allen Ray Nicolette (uncredited): Michael Keaton Hejirah Henry (uncredited): Samuel L. Jackson Federal Marshal: Stephen M. Horn Airport Patron (uncredited): Oscar A. Diaz Waitress (uncredited): Jennifer Dorogi Airport Passenger (uncredited): Deborah Smith Ford Xenon Light Guard (uncredited): Mike Gerzevitz Flight Attendant (uncredited): Thelma Gutiérrez Bank Manager (uncredited): Wayne V. Johnson Bank Patron (uncredited): Pati Lauren Shopper (uncredited): Sherrie Peterson Gas Station Attendant (uncredited): Ronnie Stutes Film Crew: Director: Steven Soderbergh Producer: Danny DeVito Executive Producer: Barry Sonnenfeld Novel: Elmore Leonard Screenplay: Scott Frank Executive Producer: John Hardy Producer: Michael Shamberg Producer: Stacey Sher Original Music Composer: David Holmes Director of Photography: Elliot Davis Editor: Anne V. Coates Makeup Artist: Bill Corso Digital Compositor: Sean MacKenzie Second Assistant Director: Trey Batchelor First Assistant Director: Gregory Jacobs Second Second Assistant Director: Michael Risoli Supervising Sound Editor: Larry Blake Set Dresser: Mike Malone Casting: Kathy Driscoll-Mohler Casting: Francine Maisler Production Design: Gary Frutkoff Art Direction: Philip Messina Set Decoration: Maggie Martin Costume Design: Betsy Heimann Makeup Artist: Margot Boccia Key Hair Stylist: Bonnie Clevering Makeup Artist: Anita Gibson Key Makeup Artist: Katherine James Hairstylist: Deborah Mills-Whitlock Hairstylist: Waldo Sanchez Makeup Effects Designer: David LeRoy Anderson Hairstylist: Mary L. Mastro Makeup Artist: Mark Shostrom Unit Production Manager: Frederic W. Brost Production Supervisor: Pat Chapman Post Production Supervisor: Caitlin Maloney Production Supervisor: Mary Morgan Additional Second Assistant Director: David M. Bernstein Second Second Assistant Director: William D. Robinson Set Dresser: Shane L. Ashton Set Dresser: Tristan Paris Bourne Art Department Assistant: Andrea Brody Leadman: Jon J. Bush Set Designer: Lauren Cory Set Designer: Keith P. Cunningham Standby Painter: Chuck Eskridge Property Master: Emily Ferry Set Dresser: Harry Frierson Construction Foreman: Gary Gagliardo Paint Coordinator: Hank Giardina Construction Foreman: William Gideon Props: Brett Gollin Assistant Property Master: Otniel Gonzalez Set Dresser: L. David Gordon Props: Charles Guanci Jr. Art Department Coordinator: Blair Huizingh Set Dresser: James E. Hurd Jr. Paint Coordinator: Steven Kerlagon Set Dresser: Alexander Kirst Set Dresser: Chris Patterson Leadman: David C. Potter Set Designer: Mary Saisselin Construction Coordinator: Chris Snyder Assistant Property Master: Joy Taylor Painter: Mark Woodworth Carpenter: John Blanchard Set Dresser: Kurt Braun Painter: Tammy DeRuiter Greensman: Michael ...

#bedroom #car trunk #diamond theft #elmore leonard #Heist #locked in trunk of car #prison escape #Top Rated Movies #u.s. marshal

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