#WE BRING YOU A BREAK FROM THE MEAT GRINDER FOR A QUICK 'WAIT WHAT'

[cremisino]

@tribunale

❝Solido, in a rare moment of tact, bites his tongue. Diavolo, through his runny mascara, cannot help himself:

"You may yet be right. Though you are the illusion, not I, there is a shred of truth. But we are going in circles, no matter what, thanks to… that brat. Circles of death. Of an endless end."

In their shared mind, Diavolo looks at Solido. Both of them tired, eyes red and swollen, bodies almost bruised. Solido's usually short and scruffy hair is a mess of tangles much like Diavolo's own. Their green eyes lock their gaze unto one another, a silent offering of ashamed truce. A wordless acceptance of that offer. They look away, back into the world outside their mind.

Then, Solido latches onto one word the other Diavolo had said, one word in particular which causes his brow to furrow.

"Wait, who's Amaretto?"

[ignaciotries]

COFFEE

Coffee

There’s something mystical in waking up right before the sun shines. The sheets are still cold, it’s incredibly misty outside, and everything seems suspended in a half dreamlike state. You wobble between dream and reality, and gravity seems awfully stronger. The air isn’t stale, but gentle and the breeze sends pleasant tingles down the spine. I exhale heavily and roll covered in bed sheets towards the edge until my face meets wood; a bitter departure but needed if I’m to get out of bed. After long contemplating the cold paneled floor, I glimpse at the window. My exhales fog the cold panes. I push the window open and meet the soft breeze outside. I motion my body forward and rest my arms over the damp wooden frame, while the wisps from a low fog outside slither into my room.

It may not be the place for everyone, but here I behold my own small paradise. The whitish peaks shine a bluish hue against the dark horizon. Long lived pines naturally frame the vista and cover my lonesome cabin in the woods from the harsh winds and brutal temperatures that come rushing down from that sparkly ridge beyond. A ridge I would love to describe even further, but I just slammed onto the floor seconds ago and will need a bit to sharpen my senses; though, it is a good thing that today is for relaxation and mindfulness. Today is for taking my time and enjoying my home; as every timber has been chopped, all the meats carved and cured, and the forest peaceful. It is me, and only me on this slope opposite to man and industry.

I take a break from admiring it all. I don’t want it to get too cold inside before I prepare the fireplace. The logs may get humid. It would be far too eventful now for them to split and crack wildly. I pick the driest logs and let the ember gather strength on its own. I enjoy this simple silence.

But above all, I enjoy something more; more than the books I keep safe and sealed away in the living room chests, or a sharpened hatchet gliding through wood as a knife would butter. Yes. The one thing that I can enjoy the most on mornings such as these is the purest black elixir I can filter after one delicate pour. 

I light the gas and watch snow melt away into sweet water. I bring it to a soft boil and then maintain the pot at a low simmer. The vapors contrast wildly inside as the hot and cold airs spiral into a perpetual dance above. Now comes the best part, I gently let the water stream out as a sparkling waterfall into the dry grinded bits I prepared the day before; perfectly roasted and dried. Fumes rich in aroma and force envelop the room as I pour in concentric circles from the center outwards. And in a minute, I will be experiencing a sunrise of my own.

It is the stark contrast of the season against the remedy of man, both night and day in a cup. Coffee. My cup with Coffee. There are many like it across the world at hours such as these. The salaryman has his expresso; the boys, their americanos; and those who fancy the drink as a sweet and quick “pick me up”, their lattes. But this one, this simple stream of black into a stained ivory cup, is mine. It forever will be. I do not pretend to sound like a braggart, but the difference in resulting hue has been something of an art and lifelong learning experience for me. I have drunk from the frothy mixes of the south, partaken of the rich Caribbean tones, and endured the harsh and uncaring smack of the smooth roast. All of these experiences coalesced into what I hold now. My cup. My coffee.

I place it at a table next to a broad window.

There’s a clearing outside. The peaks are as visible here as from my bedroom, and it seems that a harsh orange glow burns against them from the right. The ever radiant towards the irradiant.

I sit by the table, cup at my left, and I look out and fix my eyes beyond the windows, beyond the clearing, beyond the peaks. I take a small taste and follow it with a small mouthful to warm the senses; a sublime enlightenment in such a small broth. Would it even be right to call it such? No, it is preposterous to call it a broth and continue my early ramblings. I apologize. This is no bean soup; therefore, never will it be a broth. Coffee stands on a world alone. It is apart from others by more than just use and origin. It is a lonesome and tortured soul, that has been filled with bitter sentiment against the world.

A cherry is plucked, its dreams to face the musky earth and give rise to something more destroyed, it is then gutted and left to suffer the morning sun, like the peaks. The peaks shine a softer color now as the spectrum reaches further on its path through the void. 

“The void...” I whisper. 

One would think I would compare it through some convoluted analogy or otherworldly metaphor to the stiff dark of my Coffee, but it would result in more or less the same. It is black because it is greedy. It desires all that it has lost and so picks even the color from air, takes it all till not one is distinguishable from the other. The void doesn’t care for colors. When one stares into space, like an astronaut contemplating their place in it all, it seems black, but not because of color, but the lack of it. Here, color roams freely unhinged and uninhibited. The astronaut is both aware and saddened by it, for to let color free in such an unfathomable space is to see it disappear and leave only darkness, and to catch it all and not let it escape is to also be darkness. Only by freeing it among others is to see light and hues.

And so, it is that Coffee is lonesome, tortured, and greedy, but most of all… bitter. We have taken away enough, and it is that will for fight rather than flight that awakens the body. We have made something suffer for our gain. Good Coffee. I know your pain, so I always treat you with ceremony. I admire you and your spirit.

I take another mouthful.

“So much bull,” I sighed.

All this rambling, all the nonsense, the attempts to veil myself in constant thought, and whimsical allusions are just proof that I’m more of a social creature than what I tell others. I close myself in these fantasy-like rental cabins and spin a distinct narrative every morning. Today I’m a coffee connoisseur, yesterday I was woodchopper, and well, Thursdays… they’re just for building a fort of literature as I tangle myself in their worlds, too; it’s how I get new material for the rest of the week.

“It beats facing reality, at least for now.” 

I push away from the chair, inching towards the window, cup in hand.

“Yet, perhaps that’s what I should aim for,” the view getting a bit ginger, yet not as arrayed in hues anymore. 

“Peaks.” I let out. A peak, a sort of maximum confluence in direction, all roads in my mind converging; something far and above these habitual escapes.

Goal oriented is what they call it. I get it, what sane mind would want to develop a new persona each day? To pour myself into the mold, while suppressing any asphyxiating thought of what I really think I am. Of what I can remember. Constant change inevitably erodes the self and time builds upon the remainder as to fill the gaps.

I look back at the chair, at the table with its sleek mahogany finish, and the kitchen at the back; coffee bean bags rushed open, an unseemly grinder with old bits clumped at the bottom, and the hourglass like shape of my coffee dripper, gifted to me by my sister. Around it all, miscellaneous pots, and utensils, all thrown around the small counter.

I turn back towards the window. Under the thin layer of snow outside, foliage from months ago decompose at a standstill pace.

“I better make another cup.”

I light the gas and watch snow melt again. I just bring it to a boil this time. The vapors contrast wildly inside as the hot and cold airs blah, blah, perpetual, blah, blah, above… yeah. I place the bean bits I roughed up this morning on the filter; perfectly beaten into submission. Fumes rich in wakey-wakey envelop the room as I pour in concentric circles from the center outwards or was it inwards? I’ll just draw a star this time. And in a minute, I hope we can all experience less buffoonery. If this were a short story, then I would be a criminal for robbing the reader from his time. In a story there would be a plot to develop and tensions to rise. I’m just shifting from one end of the room to the other, not much action here.

Perhaps there’s something intrinsically natural to just doing nothing. Not that I would advocate for the world to stop working all at once. The economy would collapse! Sure, a week or two would be alright, but give it a month and production halts, travel ceases, consumerism trickles, and the line at the supermarket, where old ladies philosophize on each other’s day, vanishes completely. Oh! What a chaos that would be.

And the silence.

Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.

I’ve been away too long.

I serve my second cup and walk towards the table, again.

The cup isn’t real ivory, just some fancy facsimile for those that . . . “like to brush shoulders with Norse warriors while gulping barrels of ale after a glorious and visceral skirmish at the gates of Valhalla.” That’s just what’s written on the box. It curves at the bottom making it awkward to drink from. Why would I go to pains to drink something when a simple cylindrical cup would suffice? Is appearance that important for me? Am I vain? I think it is more likely just another tool for escapism, a thing to renounce the typical for the atypical and from it construct a world of my own. But by fulfilling this desire through material objects in order to appeal to a mood or passing fancy is shallow and wasteful. Should I not seek to feel contempt with what I do have, or what I can muster through my own ability or craft? Keeping this cup is just another day in a fit of delusion waiting to happen.

I grab a cup from those provided in the cabin. Pour the coffee from one cup to the new one, a wide brimmed glossy gray cup. I open the windows. The breeze assaults the room. I take a mallet out; toss the faux ivory cup into the air. My grip tightens fast. My feet are parallel to the shoulders.  The hands back, and my left foot forward. My hips burst into motion. My whole torso follows, and away the mallet goes. The cup is obliterated immediately and the projectile bits rain outside like dirt over a coffin. The logs at the fireplace start popping a bit as if cheering me on.

I toss the mallet at the floor, and drop over the seat again, window still open and breeze still rushing in. I drink from the new cup. The logs pop louder as the flames twist the pulp and vapors trapped inside shootout.

I drink from my new cup.

All the confusion tumbling in my head is bound to lead me into exhaustion. I believe that by drinking from that which I described at the start as something so dark and bitter, may help me untangle the weaves of fantasy and delusion I have brought upon myself. Is it not the remedy of man against the season? This seasonal depression I stumble into every night, hoping in the end that I at least manage to see the day again. There are many who go through the same ordeals at hours such as these, but I wish them better than me. I hope they don’t end up attaching their happiness to the availability of a drink, to a drug. I hope that they don’t grow addicted to their escapes. I hope that they return to a less cold and somber place; somewhere they can see and be merry under the light each other reflects upon the other. I never wished to sound so disheartening. I believed that being away from others could help me reshape this mentality.

I used to believe that coffee could help. I still drink it because I have replaced all that I used to know with it. If I drink enough water and eat accordingly, I’m sure to stay fine no matter how much coffee I consume in a day.

Remedies against the season, right?

Remedies of man.

I stare at the cup. It seems I’ve gulped most of it down at some point, made more, and didn’t even notice.

I look back at the kitchen counter; coffee bean bags decomposed, a moldy old grinder, and a broken coffee dripper only able to hold half a cup before it starts seeping through the seams. Around it all, ashes. The fireplace is filled with soot and the walls around it are charred. My books are just tight bundles of dust that collapse at the touch. The cabin has lost its roof and the windows are broken. Snow gathers inside just like outside. The peaks are still there, off in the distance, and I’m still sitting in this chair by the table, cup in hand.

I stroked my old dusty beard and let out a sigh. The low warm exhale dancing gently in front just as vapors did long ago above me. I grow covered in this white dust, but my cup is warm to the touch, my coffee, still bitter, in a stained gray cup.

[nickireadstfc]

The King's Men, Chapter 1 – Hello Foxhole, My Old Friend

In which the Foxes are introduced to Meat Grinder Neil, Nicky misses an opportunity for a memeworthy Christmas gift, we find out some things about Jean, and Andrew and Neil chill on a rooftop or whatever.

Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The King's Men.

Hello hello hello, we’re back! Welcome to the one, the only, the glorious, all-surpassing, awe-inspiring, shade-throwing, capslock-inducing and feels-wrecking finale to this hell of a ride called All For The Game - welcome to The King's Men.

Let’s start at the very front: A cover, as always, says more than a thousand words, and this cover has one clear message it shouts in the faces of those familiar with the series, clear as day and ringing like a bell: IT'S SHOWDOWN TIME, FUCKERS.

Two Exy racquets, one orange, one black, crossed, clashing. The title, half-orange, half-black. Nora Sakavic' name at the bottom, also half-orange, half-black, menacingly laughing in my face like Rumpelstiltskin on crack, glee-drunk on my surely following future tears.

Whee-hee. Let’s fucking go.

(Also, the chapters are getting much longer by this book, so y'all will have to deal with these posts being longer as well. Soz.)

          Even after a semester at Palmetto State University and a couple weeks practicing on the largest Exy stadium in the United States, Neil was still struck breathless by the Foxhole Court.

Neil, my boy, you never disappoint. Even through hardship, bruises and cuts, one thing can always be relied on: Your gigantic boner for Exy. Get a room, you two.

          “It’s time to go,” Wymack said.

          That was enough to make Neil get up, although his battered body protested.

Oh yeah, quick reminder for anyone who might have forgotten (although – why the fuck would you ever): Neil is currently walking minced meat with Trauma Jetlag™, a literal prison tattoo, and #allnatural #naturaleyes #naturalhair #nomakeup #nofilter.

Because of that, he’s obviously not that keen on running into his squad at the moment. Can’t exactly blame the dude.

If I looked like Freddy Krueger with a facial tramp stamp, I wouldn’t go around instagramming selfies either.

Especially when I willingly ran into the arms of the dude who is nationally known for giving out facial tramp stamps.

          Wymack had even locked the office in his short absence. Neil had been in there enough times to know Wymack didn’t keep anything particularly valuable on his shelves. The only thing of any import was Neil’s duffel. (…) On Neil’s first day in South Carolina he had asked Wymack to protect his things, and seven months later Wymack was still keeping that promise. It was almost enough to make Neil forget all about Riko.

Guys, this just in: Wymack is still the best damn person alive. #dicksoutforwymack

The best damn person alive also already warned the Foxes Neil looked like a human punching bag in order to prevent them from having an actual heart attack when they see him. Yay, have fun explaining yourself to them, hombre.

          Matt moved soundlessly for a few moments before he finally managed to choked, “Jesus Christ, Neil.”

          “It’s not as bad as it looks,” Neil said.

This just in: Neil is Veronica from Heathers, minus the 80’s hair-do.

In order to fulfill his self-appointed role as Neil’s mother hen, Matt then swiftly goes and punches newly-arrived Kevin in the fucking face – which is generally a sentiment I can support, although it really is not his fault this time.

          Matt stared at him for an endless minute, then said, “I want to break [Riko’s] face in six places. If he ever comes within a thousand yards of you again –“

Same, Matt. Fucking SAME.

Matt being protective of Neil will never not give me a healthy dose of The Feels™.

One confrontation down, four to go: What do Aaron, Nicky and Kevin have to say to Mr Meat Grinder?

          Unsurprisingly, Aaron was the safest one to look at. (…) Neil gave him a moment to see if he’d ask, but all Aaron did was shrug.

Glad to see the usual amounts of sympathy and care coming from one half of the Minyard Murder Twins.

Although I’m doubting the other half will muster up any more affection.

          Nicky, on the other hand looked absolutely crushed as he took in Neil’s wrecked appearance. He reached out as soon as Neil was close enough and wrapped his hand around the back of Neil’s neck, (…) carefully pulling Neil up against him.

Also, glad to see the usual freaking normal reaction coming from Nicky, aka some goddamn comforting hugs for once in this cold, cold monster squad.

Nicky hugs are the best hugs.

          At least Kevin had the decency to speak in French. “Tell me the master didn’t approve this.”

Every time Kevin still calls Tetsuji “the master”, a little tiny thing inside my heart dies.

10/10 would protect my tiny big ass traumatized son.

          “Riko said he’d hurt us if I change it back. All I can do is duck my head and hope for the best.” (…)

          “How long do you think he’ll let you hide before he forces you to show [the tattoo] off? The press will be all over this (…). He’s trying to get you found.”

Well, duh.

I’m already looking forward to Neil regaining his confidence, and then I’m looking forward to him sassing the absolute everloving shit out of whoever tries to come for him for his appearance and tattoo.

          “He wouldn’t waste his time unless he thinks we really are going to be a problem for his team That means something, doesn’t it? (…) Kevin, you do what you do best and focus on Exy. Take us where he doesn’t want us to go.”

Hell effin yes.

We’re gonna fucking make it to finals, and we’re gonna fucking shoot that dumb Exy ball so hard around those Raven Fuckers’ heads that we shoot the asshole smirk right off Riko’s ugly face.

Yas.

          Nicky looked between them as if making sure they were done, then scooped his gift bags up again and held one out to Neil.

          “Belated Christmas present,” he said, a little sadly.

NICKY LET ME LOVE YOU.

Trust this dude to always bring the sunshine around at the end of the day.

          “I’ve got Andrew’s with me, too. Actually, I got you two the same thing because you are like the most impossible people in the world to buy for.”

Knives, hair dye, black T-Shirts, cigarettes, a coupon for an anger management course,… Andreil gift-shopping ain’t that hard, homie.

But scratch all that - Nicky got them each a winter coat!

This would have been even better if Nicky hadn’t gotten the same coat for each of them, but literally the same coat – because now all I can imagine is Neil and Andrew stuck in one coat like a Get Along Shirt.

If someone makes this into fanart, I will pay you in Ben & Jerry’s. I’m being dead serious.

Four reunions done and the most important one still to go – one road trip to Columbia later:

        “If you’ll sign in, I’ll ring Dr. Slosky and let him know you’re here.”

        (...) Neil was the only one who hesitated when his pen touched the paper. Riko hadn’t let him be “Neil” at Evermore. Every time Neil answered to it on the court, Riko beat him for it. (…) Riko wanted him to know how much trouble he’d caused the Moriyamas with all of his alibis.

Jesus fuck. Is there literally anything he didn’t get beat for at the Batcave of Extra?

Actually, don’t answer that.

Also, hate to be that person again but – shouldn’t he have gotten to that bit of trauma way earlier? Wymack and the Foxes called him Neil so many times already, why is this only kicking in now?

I legit don’t have an explanation and I think it may just be a continuity error. If anyone does have a good explanation, shoot me an ask.

They sit down to wait for Andrew and to everyone’s surprise (including mine), Kevin uses the wait to do something so incredibly out of character my figurative wig was instantly snatched:

Being a compassionate person.

        “I know what he’s like,” Kevin said. Neil looked at him, but Kevin was studying his hands. “Riko. If you want to talk.”

Fucking what.

        It was the most awkward and uncomfortable thing Kevin had ever said to him. Kevin was known for his talent, not his sensitivity. (…) That he tried at all was so unexpected Neil felt it like a balm to every bruised inch of his skin.

Oh my GOD.

HE’S TRYING, he’s trying to make Neil feel better, he just wants to help and to comfort him I’m gonna light myself the fuck on fire I can’t handle this.

These Kevin/Neil feels are ambushing me out of nowhere. I was almost over this dynamic, god damnit. What the fuck.

        “[Jean’s] father owed the Moriyamas a great deal. The master paid those debts in exchange for Jean’s presence on our court. He was property, nothing more. You are the same in their eyes. (…) I know it means he did not hold back.”

Wait – does this mean Jean initially got the same treatment that Neil just had to suffer through?

WELL, FUCK.

Jean Valjean has instantly risen in the ranks of my faves.

SWEET FRENCH SUMMER CHILD. YOU DID NOT DESERVE THIS WHAT THE FUCK.

No wonder he’s a (seemingly) heartless bitch now. Kill or be killed, I guess.

        “Were you ever going to tell [Coach that he’s your father]?”

        “I was going to when he signed me,” Kevin said. “I couldn’t. (…) [Tetsuji] has never raised a hand or voice against Coach before because Coach has never been a real threat to him. I didn’t know if a confession would change things. I couldn’t risk it.”

Kevin :’( protecting and caring for Wymack :’(( just like Wymack protected and cared for him :’((((((

Before I can get too emotional over this, though, the happy Kevin/Neil Honest Conversation™ is cut short by the arrival of everyone’s favourite murder maniac, minus the meds.

(Back at it again with the alliterations, y’all.)

        If Neil hadn’t known Andrew spent the last year and a half fiercely protective and territorial of Kevin, he’d think they were strangers. Andrew treated Kevin to a bored inspection, then flicked his fingers in dismissal.

Apparently, Andrew is not that different off his meds but continues to be a Stony Sinnamon Roll, Too Indifferent To This World, Too Dead Inside™. Well, bummer.

I don't know what I expected, since we did meet him sober before, but I think I thought when he'd be off his meds permanently he'd be... More? I guess? More of a person, I mean. Less walking void, and all that jazz.

Maybe he'll come around. Give the sinnamon roll some time.

Neil and the squad, finally complete again, drive back to campus, and as they get out we get a glimpse of something amazing we'll have more of later this chapter:

It's prime fucking Andreil time.

        [Neil] straightened and turned to find out Andrew had shifted closer. There was nowhere for Neil to stand except up against Andrew, but somehow Neil didn't mind. They'd been apart for seven weeks but Neil keenly remembered why he'd stayed. He remembered is unyielding, unquestioning weight that could hold him and all of his problems without breaking a sweat. For the first time in months he could finally breathe again. It was such a relief it was frightening; Neil hadn't meant to lean on Andrew so much.

ALL-FUCKING-RIGHT.

Alright alright alright. So NOT ONLY is this gay as shit as it is, and Neil is (whether he realises it or not) super fucking in love by this point, but - "Andrew had shifted closer", bitch, what.

Don't you dare tell me that boy isn't fucking infatuated with our favourite runaway drama queen.

In today's issue of The PSU Andreil Times: Heart-Eyed Little Shit Thinks He's Being Sneaky, Fails Miserably. More news on page 19.

When Neil is done waxing poetic about Andrew's ~strength~ and his ~*~unyiedling body~*~, he goes back to his dorm for part 2 of The Matt Confrontation:

        „Neil? We're here when you want to talk about it.“

        „I know.“

Is that... Neil... close to accepting actual help from outside...

Amazing.

        He knew just from looking at Matt that Matt would accept any truth Neil gave him right now, no matter how cruel or unbelievable. He'd done the right thing by going to Evermore; he was making the right choice in standing his ground here with the Foxes. (…) If [what happened] was the only way to keep his teammates safe from Riko's cruelty, it was an easy price to pay.

Okay ya brb while I drown myself in my own fucking tears.

FOX FAMILY. STOP RUINING MY FEELINGS. I'm supposed to be cool and witty here but I can't even do that because I'm just too emotional over this.

And the fun doesn't stop here, oh no.

Are you guys ready?

I know there are some people fidgeting excitedly in their seats right now because they know what's about to come up – the grand finale to a wonderful third-book-kick-off chapter:

The goddamn rooftop thing.

        Andrew turned to face him. „I'll take an explanation now.“

        „You couldn't ask for answers inside where it's warm?“ Neil asked.

Glad to see that even when faced with his (by now Confirmed™) crush, Neil still doesn't lose his sass.

But of course, Neil is not one to keep secrets from his murder boyfriend, and so he tells him of the Christmas Fuckery – which Andrew is decidedly not fucking liking, because of course Neil left Kevin's side and therefore kind of broke their deal.

Whoops.

        „Why did you go?“

        Neil didn't know if he could say it. Thinking about it was almost too much. Andrew was waiting, though, so Neil choked back his nausea. „Riko said if I didn't, Dr. Proust would-“

        Andrew clapped a hand over his mouth, smothering the rest of his words. (…) „Do not make the mistake of thinking I need your protection.“

Okay, but don't you, though?

Neil says it himself later on, and he's entirely correct: Andrew watches everyone's backs, who's gonna watch his?

He may be an expert in back-watching, but even the most back-watchiest back-watcher in the world can be out-back-watched, my dude. And who's gonna come rescue you then, hm? HMM??

Neil fucking will, of course.

        „The next time someone comes for you, stand down and let me deal with it. Do you understand?“

        „If it means losing you, then no.“

SHIT WHAT.

Since when are our boys so damn open with their love declarations?? This was so outta nowhere?? I'm fcukign?? Having a heart attack??

And following that – of course. The one, the only, the iconic:

        „I hate you,“ Andrew said casually. (…) „You were supposed to be a side effect of the drugs.“

        „I'm not a hallucination,“ Neil said, nonplussed.

        „You are a pipe dream,“ Andrew said.

BOY.

SHIT.

IM FCIKIGN FUCKKNGING FKUCKKVMFGNICHNNNKNX

The fact that Andrew thought his feelings (THAT ARE NOW CONFIRMED, I REPEAT, CONFIRMED ANDREW FEELINGS FOR NEIL HAVE BEEN SPOTTED) were a temporary thing, unreal, a side effect of being high out of his mind, is just like kind of, casually ruining my life. No biggie.

No fucking biggie.

Andrew quickly realizes he may have admitted too many feelings though, and in a feeble attempt to save his cold front and fragile masculinity, he throws Neil's keys off the roof, because just giving them back to him normally wouldn't have been Manly™ enough.

However Neil, once more, is able to show us that he can give as good as he gets (innuendo absolutely intended):

        Neil wasn't sure why he did it, but he plucked Andrew's cigarette off the sidewalk and stuck it between his lips. He tipped his head back to meet Andrew's unwavering gaze and tapped two fingers to his temple in Andrew's mocking salute. (…) It felt like a win, though Neil wasn't sure why.

Fucking hell.

These two are going to a) improve this last book exponentially and b) absolutely fucking ruin my life.

Nicki out.

As always: If you like what I do here and you want to help me continue writing fun things for you, please consider buying me a coffee. Every lil bit does absolutely help, getting me through uni and all that jazz. Thanks so much!!

[newsbiteswithjennysok]

Mon, Mar 30, 2020

1. Drake's son Adonis has made his Instagram debut, more than two years after his birth.Rapper Drake, 33, who has kept his son out of the public eye, posted a series of candid snaps of himself with the toddler and his mother, model Sophie Brussaux, as well as his parents Dennis and Sandi Graham. The Hotline Bling hitmaker revealed he was pining for his family and friends during the coronavirus lockdown, sharing a beautiful image of him cradling curly-haired Adonis.

n a lengthy caption, Drake reflected on the current world situation and revealed he was desperately missing his loved ones.

He wrote: 'What is most important for you right now is to connect to your own inner light. This will create the biggest opening of all. Trust that you have all of the power within to make this happen, and in order to do that connect to the people and things that bring you a lot of joy.  

He continued: 'I love and miss my beautiful family and friends and I can’t wait for the joyful day when we are all able to reunite. Until then please keep your lights on.'

Back in October 11, 2017 former adult film star Sophie gave birth to Adonis but Drake did not acknowledge the existence of his child until the release of his album Scorpion in late June 2018.

2. Darcey Silva is not one to shy away from showing her admiration for Georgi Rusev. The 90 Day Fiance alum has been swooning over her much younger boyfriend online for everyone to see. In a recent Instagram post, Tom Brooks’ ex-girlfriend proudly talked about the 32-year-old head-turner. Darcey implied that her years of searching for Mr. Right is likely over after meeting Georgi Rusev. She even confidently declared that her “sexy bae” is the “real deal”. This isn’t surprising at all considering how Darcey Silva assumed the same thing with her past 90 Day Fiance relationships. It remains to be seen whether things will different this time around with Georgi Rusev.

Many are now wondering if the couple is getting serious about their relationship. She first stepped out with Georgi Rusev in February at a series of events in Miami. The two were all over each other, sparking rumors that they’re an item. Since then, Darcey Silva has been spotted being lovey-dovey with Georgi Rusev on numerous occasions.

However, it doesn’t seem like she often sees Georgi Rusev. Apparently, he is based out of Arlington, Virginia but frequently visits Miami, Chicago, and Washington, D.C. Despite that, Darcey Silva seems satisfied with her love life, saying she “never felt so loved and happy”.

3. Rihanna, 32, definitely sees motherhood in her future within the next 10 years, by the time she’s 42, and she doesn’t care if she has to do it without a male partner. The singer sat down for an interview with British Vogue for her May cover issue and admitted that she’s been doing a lot of hard work now so she doesn’t have to in the future, when she plans on having “3 or 4 kids.”

“I know I will want to live differently,” she told the outlet about her future over the next 10 years. “Ten years? I’ll be 42! I’ll be ancient. I’ll have kids – three or four of ’em.” When asked if she’d still go forward with her plans for a family if she can’t find someone to settle down with, she immediately confirmed that she would. “Hell, yeah,” she said. “I feel like society makes me want to feel like, ‘Oh, you got it wrong…’ They diminish you as a mother if there’s not a dad in your kids’ lives. But the only thing that matters is happiness, that’s the only healthy relationship between a parent and a child. That’s the only thing that can raise a child truly, is love.”

4. 90 Day Fiance: Before the 90 Days star Stephanie Matto surprised some of her newfound fans this week when she talked about the time she spent living in Los Angeles pursuing an acting career. After months of unsuccessfully looking for her big break, the combination of loneliness, alcohol, and being broke motivated Stephanie to try out a new career path — as a stripper!

“Wishin’ I was back in LA,” Stephanie began an Instagram post on Wednesday. “There was a time when the thought of returning, even if for a quick visit, pained me. Why? When I was 24 years old I saved 10 grand, packed my bags, and moved to Los Angeles with hopes of becoming an actress.”

Unlike a lot of Hollywood dream-chasing stories, Stephanie’s starts off relatively well. She had a nice little nest egg, a relatively successful YouTube channel, and a resume that included being a finalist on a national Nickelodeon talent competition (more on that soon). But, even Hollywood journeys that begin on relatively sure footing are risky.

“6 months later I was working as a stripper at a gentlemen’s club called The Palms in Signal Hill,” Stephanie continues, adding the and emoji. “Ahh so goes the story of so many aspiring actresses!”

Stephanie says that her experience as a stripper was anything but pleasant, but she managed to remain positive and continued moving forward. “That job forever scarred me in ways that still trickle into my personal life today, BUT I will never regret my move. I ultimately hit rock bottom while living in LA, and through that painful experience sought healing by investing time into my first book. I took lemons and made something closely resembling lemonade.”

I assume that Stephanie is referencing her book Mean Boys & Memories: A Compilation of My Most Outrageous, Hideous, and Embarrassing Stories, which was published in 2015 and is currently available on Amazon.

5. A sheriff in Florida this morning sent out a tweet seeking new leads in the cold-case disappearance of the second husband of Carole Baskin, one of the breakout stars of the wildly popular Netflix docu-series Tiger King.  The seven-part true-crime documentary that has taken a quarantine-bound America by storm follows the exploits of eccentric tiger breeder Joe Exotic - real name is Joseph Maldonado-Passage - who operated an exotic animal park in Oklahoma. Maldonado-Passage was convicted of hiring an undercover FBI agent to kill his long-time rival, animal rights activist Carole Baskin.

Filmmaker Eric Goode says he is concerned some viewers have walked away from Tiger King thinking Joe Exotic should be freed

Exotic animal breeder Joseph Maldonado-Passage, 56, is serving 22-year sentence in federal prison for trying to have Carole Baskin killed

Baskin, animal rights activist, has come under scrutiny after Netflix show brought up an old theory she played a role in ex-husband's disappearance

It's been rumored Carole cut up her husband, put his remains through a meat grinder and fed them to the big cats at her Tampa, Florida, rescue center

Carole has denied these claims, slamming them as 'ludicrous'

Florida sheriff on Monday sent a tweet seeking new leads in the cold case of Don Lewis, Carole's second husband, who vanished in 1997

Carole Baskin's third husband accused Goode and his partner, Rebecca Chaiklin, of deceiving them and called them 'con artists' 

Rapper Cardi B was sympathetic of Joe Exotic's plight and vowed to start a GoFundMe to help free the incarcerated big cat breeder                         

Baskin's second husband, Don Lewis vanished without a trace in 1997. She later remarried for a third time to Howard Baskin.

Lewis' body was never recovered and the investigation into his disappearance remains open.

Taking advantage of the hype created by the Netflix hit show, Hillsborough County Sheriff Chad Chronister on Monday tweeted a message appealing to the public for information about the missing man.

Maldonado-Passage was convicted in 2019 of attempting to hire someone to murder Baskin, as well as multiple animal cruelty and Endangered Species Act violations

'Since @netflix and #Covid19 #Quarantine has made #TigerKing all the rage, I figured it was a good time to ask for new leads. #CaroleBaskin #DonLewis #Netflix #Tiger #BigCatRescue #JoeExotic #TigerKingNetflix #HCSO,' he wrote.

The bewildering series, labeled by Twitter users as 'off the rails' and 'the craziest show' they have ever seen, has won legions of fans, including rapper Cardi B, who tweeted last week that she was intent on launching a GoFundMe account to help free Maldonado-Passage from prison, writing, 'he shall be free.'

[irisplate9-blog]

Mexican Cheesy Ground Beef and Rice Casserole

September 2, 2018

I’m always looking for a quick and easy  dinner idea and this Mexican Cheesy Ground Beef and Rice Casserole just became our favorite of 2018.

The absolute most popular recipe on our site is my Mom’s Busy Day Casserole, well that’s what we called it growing up, but on the blog it’s, Cheesy Ground Beef and Rice Casserole. It’s a great classic recipe for a family or picky eaters. Having grown up on it it doesn’t bother me a lick that it’s such a basic recipe, but I can’t help but tinker and finding a new version of a big hit was my next goal. This Mexican Cheesy Ground Beef and Rice Casserole blows the original out of the water.

Sorry, Mom.

Actually, if I’m being honest, it doesn’t. But it’s a nostalgia thing for me. I grew up on the first so no matter how amazing a recipe I create I can’t help but love the original and think of all the times my mom made it for us. But don’t worry, I already called her and told her she has to try this new version, that way it can still be a family favorite. 🙂

Quick and Easy Dinner Idea

As you know, we really like to make things from scratch, but sometimes we just flat out need a quick and easy dinner idea.

We feel like it’s better for our bodies to cook from scratch and we just flat out like to cook. However, this is one of those times when we are going to bust out the canned soup, because it’s easy and tastes great in this dish.

Homemade Canned Soup

To make a homemade fiesta soup, you could use our homemade recipe in our Cheesy Ground Beef and Rice Casserole, but you’d need to add in some cheese, spices and peppers to hit that same flavor and by the time you do that the condensed soup really is easier.

It’s up to you though, so if you want to try it, please let us know what you did in the comments.

Mexican Cheesy Ground Beef and Rice Casserole

Alright, the casserole is rice, taco flavored ground beef, a creamy fiesta soup blended in to make it even more flavor rich, black beans, though you could add corn as well, and cheese on top. We like it plain just like that, or served up with salsa and avocados, or guacamole.

How to Make Rice Casserole

Alright, let’s chat about our most asked questions on how to make a rice casserole.

You’ll start this recipe out with white long grain rice. Mixing the rice, water and soup together evenly is really important as you’ll end up with dry spots otherwise.

Do I cook the rice first?

No, the long grain rice will completely cook in the oven along with all of the other ingredients which is why proper combining of the ingredients is important so that everything is mixed with the water well.

My Casserole Came Out Like Soup

If you cook for the entire 90 minutes, there’s no possible way your casserole will come out undercooked as long as you followed the recipe, using the correct rice, measurements of liquid etc.

Which brings up a good point, liquid ingredients should always be measured in a glass measuring cup, and never in a standard measuring cup which is meant for dry ingredients.

My Casserole Came Out Dry

Unfortunately I’ve been making this recipe for 20 years and the ONLY time is has ever come out dry is when I didn’t properly cook it or measure the ingredients properly. There’s plenty of liquid, you should not have a dry casserole.

Well, with all of that seasoning and the fiesta soup you really shouldn’t have a problem, however everyone’s taste buds are totally different, so if something tastes bland to you, add more salt, seasoning or flavorful ingredients to your liking. That’s the best part about cooking, it’s so easy to amp up or tone down the flavor train!

Which Ground Beef Tastes Best

Well, to be honest, the fuller fat ground beef tastes best but let’s break it down.

 Ground Beef – 73% Lean, 27% Fat

73% Lean is the most flavorful of all the ground beefs because of the fat in it. This will also make it the most juicy, which is good, but you’ll have a good amount of fat to drain off.

This is a great option for a burger or a dish where ground beef is the sole star.

Ground Chuck – 80% Lean, 20% Fat

An 80/20 is what we use most often if we are cooking with ground beef. It has enough fat to keep things juicy and still really taste that umami beef flavor.

Ground Sirloin – 85% Lean, 15% Fat

Ground Sirloin is another great option though that fat number is getting low. We often cook with this one because it’s a tad bit healthier and still isn’t as dry as a 90%.

 Ground Round – 90% Lean, 10 % Fat

90% is very lean and will cook up a lot drier because of the low fat. Which isn’t a problem if you’re adding it into a recipe like a saucy pasta, casserole, or soup.

Any of these grades will work for this dish. Usually Round and sirloin are best in chilis, soups, sauces etc while the fattier grades are best for burgers, meatloaf etc.

How Ground Beef is Made

Ground beef is taking certain cuts of beef, like the sirloin and cutting it into portions then processing it through a grinder. Sometimes, if meat is a little too lean they will add trimmings from another cut to amp up the fat, however if you’re shopping at a good store and using a good brand of beef you should literally only have meat in your ground beef.

How Long Will Ground Beef Keep?

How Long Will Ground Beef Keep in the Fridge?

Fresh ground beef will keep in the fridge for only 2 days. After that you need to freeze it or use it.

How Long Will Ground Beef Keep in the Freezer?

As long as your ground beef is uncooked you can keep it in the freezer for up to 3-4 months. Make sure it’s sealed well or you’ll get freezer burn.

Cooked Ground beef will only last for 2 months in the freezer.

How to Know if your Ground Beef Has Gone Bad

Can we just quickly mention how to know if your ground beef has gone bad?

Bacteria will build up on raw ground beef. Here’s three things to watch for.

Feels Slimy

Smells Off or Weird

Looks Grey or Grey/Brown

If any of those things are happening, you’ve got spoiled meat.

Will Ground Beef go Bad in the Freezer?

Unfortunately meat can still go bad in the freezer which is why you shouldn’t bury it under things where you’ll forget about it.

Will Ground Beef go Bad in the Fridge?

Ground beef, though stored in the fridge will still start to go bad over time.

Can Ground Beef be Re-Frozen After Being Thawed?

Let’s look to the USDA for this one, “Once food is thawed in the refrigerator, it is safe to refreeze it without cooking, although there may be a loss of quality due to the moisture lost through thawing. After cooking raw foods which were previously frozen, it is safe to freeze the cooked foods.”

However, leaving defrosted meat for a week in the fridge and then finally freezing it increases your chances that it had already begun to go bad.

Can Ground Beef be Cooked in the Microwave?

Well, yes it can, but we really don’t recommend it. The meat cooks up weird, and rubbery. Avoid, avoid, avoid.

Will Rice Cook in a Casserole?

Yep! The rice does not need to be cooked ahead of time and using minute rice is a big no, no. Just stir the long grain rice into everything and it will all cook evenly.

Can You Freeze Cooked Rice Casserole?

Yes, you can freeze cooked rice casserole! You can freeze Mexican Cheesy Ground Beef and Rice Casserole right in the pan, wrapped well with saran wrap and foil. It will only last for a couple of weeks, to a month, and please don’t add the cheese ahead of time, wait until serving to do that. If it’s leftover, well just make sure you fully defrost it in the fridge and reheat in the oven to firm things back up.

How to Make Rice Casserole in an Instant Pot

You can totally make this Mexican Cheesy Ground Beef and Rice Casserole in an instant pot, but the pot will be removed, rice put in a pan and then cheese added to be finished in the oven as the cheese gets too much moisture in the instant pot.

Merely, brown the ground beef and drain using the saute mode. Drain the fat and proceed like normal.

Turn the instant pot to manual high pressure and place the lid on to cook for 5-8 minutes. You’re all set!

What to Make with Rice Casserole

Looking for sides to go with a rice casserole? Here are some of our favorites! Elote Grilled Mexican Corn Salad, Our Best Broccoli Salad, Italian Veggie Salad, Garden Balsamic Avocado Salad

RECEIVE EASY RECIPES DELIVERED INTO YOUR INBOX EVERY DAY!

When you try a recipe, please use the hashtag #ohsweetbasil on INSTAGRAM for a chance to be featured in our stories!  FOLLOW OH, SWEET BASIL ON FACEBOOK | INSTAGRAM | PINTEREST | TWITTER FOR ALL OF OUR LATEST CONTENT, RECIPES AND STORIES.

Yield: 6 servings

Mexican Cheesy Ground Beef and Rice Casserole

Total Time: 100 minutes

Prep Time: 10 minutes

Cook Time: 90 minutes

I’m always looking for a quick and easy  dinner idea and this Mexican Cheesy Ground Beef and Rice Casserole just became our favorite of 2018.

Ingredients:

1 Can Fiesta Nacho Cheese Soup

1 Cup Long Grain White Rice

2 Cups Water

1 Can Black Beans, drained

1 lb Ground Beef

1 Taco Seasoning Packet

Water, per package instructions

Cheddar or colby jack cheese, sliced about 9 pieces

Salsa for serving

Avocado for serving

Directions:

Heat the oven to 350 degrees and spray an 8×9″ baking dish with nonstick spray.

Heat a skillet to medium heat and add the ground beef.

Drain off fat and add the seasoning packet along with the water.

Simmer until thickened.

Stir together the soup, rice, water, beans , and cooked beef.

Place in the baking dish and bake for 90 minutes.

Top with cheese slices and bake a few more minutes or until melted.

Nutrition Information

Yield: 6 servings, Serving Size: 1 cup

Amount Per Serving:

Calories: 314 Calories

Total Fat: 12.9g

Cholesterol: 66.4mg

Carbohydrates: 21.4g

Fiber: 5.3g

Sugar: 0.8g

Protein: 27.5g

All images and text ©Carrian Cheney for Oh Sweet Basil.

We are a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for us to earn fees by linking to Amazon.com and affiliated sites.

About the author

Carrian Cheney

Lover of all things beautiful, good and delicious. Wife, mother, friend, foodie.

Source: https://ohsweetbasil.com/mexican-cheesy-ground-beef-and-rice-casserole-quick-and-easy-dinner-idea-recipe/

[iowamusicshowcase]

"Nikki, Adam, & Dan are exploring dark, moody, angry, revolutional, good time, fuzzed out, skitzoprenic, no rules rock and roll! You get it or you dont. Do you?" - from their Twitter page "Iowa City trio Raw Mojo are yet another rising band from the Midwest, the trio fusing a gritty and powerful blend of rock, blues, punk, and garage rock into a quick listen of infectious riffage and charged basement rock." - from a review by Tom Haugen on the Daily Vault website "I really don’t know where to place Raw Mojo as simply, their style encompasses so many different styles and approaches that it would be unfair to put them in one particular category or genre." - from Dave Nichols on the Loud Stuff website “Raw Mojo riff like their lives depend on it” - from Kent Williams on the Little Village website "Raw Mojo is a rock band, full stop. Not to be reductive about what Raw Mojo does, but there’s something really basic and elemental about what they do. Hard hitting drums, loud fuzz guitars fused tightly to a deep bass into 10 strings of fury. Lyrics that don’t try very hard for profundity. To go looking for precursors try the 1970s; there’s a Grand Funk, Joan Jett, Spirit, Jo Jo Gunne and an insouciant soupçon of Black Sabbath. - from a review by Kent Williams in Little Village Magazine "Raw Mojo is a 3 piece rock band you may have seen at shows around Iowa City. Their M.O. is to deliver short, concise stabs of pure rock and roll, without frills, pretension or irony... each song comprises the same ingredients — raw-throated singing, overdriven guitar, bass, and heavy drumming... And yet the songs don’t all run together — perhaps relentless brevity pays off. And besides, Angus Young of AC/DC has never done anything but plug a Gibson SG into a Marshall Stack, so there’s a strong precedent for Raw Mojo’s willingness to pick a formula and stick to it. "As for the songwriting, well here’s the curious thing. I like the songs fine, but there’s nothing stellar about them in and of themselves. The personality, attitude, and execution is the thing with Raw Mojo; it’s as though they don’t want to waste time on song-writing that could be spent on rocking. And on the whole it works... Nikki fully commits to the persona of Rock&Roll Mama, and has the pipes to back it up. "I’ve only got MP3s of the album so it’s hard to comment definitively on the production, but the choices Raw Mojo made during recording seems to be stripped down and, err, raw. I can hear Miss Nikki’s bass and the kick drum, but the sound is almost all midrange, which emphasizes the sharp edges of their live sound. There’s so little studio trickery on this CD that the few songs on which the vocals get treated with a wet reverb it stands out as a surprising texture. What comes through most of all is how tight the band is, as though they’ve been practicing these songs in their basement forever. And that’s Raw Mojo’s secret: they’ve focused on the pure joy of playing rock music so completely that virtuosity or ‘originality’ or sophisticated song writing would be an unnecessary distraction." - from another review by Kent Williams for Little Village Magazine "Independently rocking through your veins since 2006. Sometimes hard n' heavy, sometimes dark and scary, at times slow and heartfelt, always fun. You either 'get' Raw Mojo or you don't... "Imagine what happens when you mix elements of rock, blues, punk, grunge, and a touch of shoegaze together in a meat grinder. What you end up with is Raw Mojo. Sure, it sounds tasty...but wait until you hear it! "Hailing from the Midwest, Raw Mojo's music comes straight from their gut - or as they like to call it, 'the basement.' Unlike some bands, Raw Mojo is never afraid to embrace and flaunt their influences. The weird thing is that the band probably shouldn't work when you take each member's individual traits, tastes, and influences. But yet somehow, everything falls into place to create much more than just a sum of its parts. This is a group that writes and plays what they feel: no guidelines, no certain genres need to be met, just pure music. With Raw Mojo it's always music first, bullshit second. "Raw Mojo is like a family. They stick tight together and support their fans as much as their fans support them. What this family of Mojomongers provides is music for the young at heart (though probably not your grandparents' music). Mainly, the band has a 'take what you will from us' punk like attitude as well as that 'let's leave the stage in burning embers' feeling once they have rawked it. It's this kind of attitude that has many listeners saying, 'I want to hear that again!' song after song. If the band has one bad habit, it’s to leave the stage leaving the audience wanting more... "There is only ONE band around that brings that genuine, no-bullshit, genre-bending music experience that strives to rock your face! And that band is RAW MOJO!!" - from their Facebook page "Mojo is defined as many things. The one definition that I thought fit this piece was one I found on Urban Dictionary. Their definition of Mojo is 'The word originally means a charm or a spell. But now it’s more commonly said meaning sex appeal or talent.' That definition is exactly how I would describe the band Raw Mojo. Their music is charming, full of sex appeal and talent... "'Adam (drums) and I have been friends since 5th grade and playing music on and off together since 95. We worked together at a small town fast food joint that year and he was always beating the tables in rhythm so I did what I could to convince him to buy a drum kit and the day he bought them we set up in his bedroom and started an original band with 2 other guys we knew. Flash forward to 2006 after we both had been in several bands, we got together on a recording project I had going with a local songwriter. We did a whole album and started to tour when out of nowhere our bass player met someone online and decided to move to be with her. The project was falling apart but Adam and I were determined to play these songs after putting half a years work into them. One song we had was called “Goosetown” and it just so happened to be the Myspace handle of a woman who came up on our page looking to play bass. This is where we met Nikki Lee. By the time she officially joined the band the old project had fizzled out and we encouraged Nikki to step up and be the musician she wanted. At this point it was clear we were an entirely new band, it felt very back to the garage raw and there was a feeling of magic about playing music again, hence the name Raw Mojo.'... "'The writing can happen in a number of ways. Sometimes Nikki will have a words and melody she is humming and we figure out what sounds good behind that. There are times we just need to break the repetition of rehearsal so we start jamming on riffs and if it strikes us as fun or interesting we explore what we can do with that. Other times one of us will flat out write something and show it to the band and they "mojoize” it. In the end it has to pass for good by all 3 members or we lose interest and eventually we never come back to it. It’s a good way to filter out what works and what doesn’t.'" - from the article, "Raw Mojo - Brickbat Theory", by Chris Axe on the Word Krapht website Lineup: Nikki Lee - Vocals/Bass Dan Bee - Vocals/Guitar Adam Calyton - Drums

Home page: http://ift.tt/2z4uWIK Facebook: http://ift.tt/2eHjyZE BandCamp: http://ift.tt/2eb0a4G To download the whole podcast, right click on the link below and hit "Save as...": http://ift.tt/2yYyRXZ