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#behind the boards nashville
zegrasdrysdale · 4 months
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[ aftermath ] t. zegras
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paring : Trevor Zegras x fem!reader
summary : (Y/N) helps Trevor deal with Jamie leaving and breaking his ankle all in 24 hours
warning(s) : injury, some angst
author’s note : it’s me. hi. i’m the problem, it’s me
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She definitely believes in the snowball effect after the last 24 hours of her life. It’s one of the reasons why she’s currently on a flight in the middle of the night to Raleigh to meet her boyfriend’s hockey team at their hotel.
Both her life and Trevor’s life have changed so much in 24 hours. Trevor left with the Ducks for their road trip expecting to have a fun trip. His best friend was finally 21 and could enjoy all that Nashville had to offer.
Then Jamie got the call that no player ever really wants to get from their general manager.
Hours later, he was on a flight to Philly and leaving the Ducks and a distraught Trevor behind in Tennessee.
She should’ve gotten on a plane then and there. Instead, she tempted fate.
The next day was Trevor’s 200th career NHL game, and he had to play it without his best friend on the ice with him. (Y/N) happily watched from their apartment in Anaheim.
Until Trevor went down along the boards after 3 shifts and two minutes total on the ice. She was on her feet as she watched her boyfriend get helped down the tunnel. He wasn’t putting any pressure on his left leg as the trainers helped him.
She blew up his phone with texts and calls until one in the morning California time. He never replied. Then she texted Mason and asked where the Ducks were staying in Raleigh. She booked a flight and asked Mason to get Trevor’s room number when they got there.
Luckily there was a nonstop flight to Raleigh that left from LAX at three that she just barely made. She packed a duffel bag and ran out the door to catch the flight.
After nearly five hours in the air and multiple timezone changes, (Y/N) lands in North Carolina. She left at three in the morning and landed at eleven in the morning. Mason’s text with Trevor’s room number and a he’s cranky comes through as she grabs her duffel from baggage claim.
Honestly, she should’ve gotten on a flight as soon as Trevor told her that Jamie got traded. This is what happens when you tempt fate.
She orders an Uber from the airport to the hotel where Trevor is staying with the Ducks.
Why he traveled with them after getting hurt is beyond her. Maybe it isn’t a long term injury and it’s just a sprain.
Either way, she’s about to find out.
After a ten minute debate with herself, she lightly knocks on Trevor’s door.
It’s a second before the door opens. As soon as it swings open though, her heart breaks at the sight behind it.
Trevor stands on crutches with his ankle wrapped. His eyes are red and puffy and it looks like he hasn’t slept a wink in two days. Honestly, he probably hasn’t.
"Trev," she pouts.
He shakes his head and quickly spins to walk back into the room. She follows him and lets the door shut behind her. "I don't want you here, (Y/N)," he tells her. The voice crack tells her all she needs to know. He does actually need her here.
"I don't care," she replies. "I'm here anyway." Trevor leans the crutches against the middle table and sits on the bed. "You haven't exactly had the best few days so I came to make sure you're okay."
"I'm not fucking okay!" Trevor shouts at her before rubbing his face and running his fingers through his hair to compose himself. "My best friend plays across the damn country now after getting traded out of nowhere and I might have just broken my damn ankle in a milestone game. I'm going to be out for like two months again."
(Y/N) crouches down in front of him and puts her hands on his knees. "I'm sorry, baby," she softly says. "I can't even begin to imagine how you feel right now. I know Jamie's in Philly right now and I know you won't talk to anyone else about how you feel so that's why I'm here. I don't want you to bottle up your feelings."
"It just sucks," Trevor says, voice shaky. "Everything's changing and I don't like it. I'm probably going to have to go to Jamie's and pack his apartment so I can send his stuff to him, especially now that I'm out and won't be able to do anything."
She gets up and sits next to her boyfriend. She grabs one of his hands and holds it on her lap. She rubs the back of her hand with her thumb. Trevor leans over and drops his head to her shoulder. She wraps an arm around his shoulders and plays with his hair.
"I'm here," she whispers. "I don't care if you don't want me here. I'll always be here."
"I know," Trevor replies. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm just frustrated and confused and in pain."
(Y/N) kisses his temple and buries her face in his hair. "It's okay," she says. "You're feeling a lot right now so I don't blame you for anything you say right now. Just know that I'll be here the entire time. As for Jamie, you know he's a phone call away whenever you wanna talk to him. He'll answer every single time you call him."
He nods. "Yeah," he mumbles. "Can we lay down until I meet with the doctor?"
"Of course," she replies. "Whatever you wanna do. What time do you meet with the doctor?"
"Three," Trevor tells her as he gets comfortable. Well, as comfortable as he can since he's hurt. "I have to leave at two."
That's enough time for both of them to take a two hour nap.
She sets her alarm for 1:30 then settles in next to him. She wraps a leg around his waist and rests her head on his forehead while he wraps an arm around her shoulders.
"Thank you for coming," Trevor whispers, his voice tired. "You didn't have to."
"I wanted to," she assures him. "Close your eyes for a bit. I'll wake you up when it's time to leave."
He nods and within seconds, his breathing evens out. She smiles and falls asleep herself knowing that Trevor is finally getting some rest.
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gretavangroupie · 1 year
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Burgundy
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Word count: 5.7k+
Pairing: Daniel x Female Reader
Warnings: Drinking, Language, Smut, Fluff.
Summary: Attending a wedding alone can be kind of a drag, especially when you show up late and sit next to a stranger. Right?
A/N: This idea was born from the recent photos of Daniel attending a wedding looking extra delicious in his Burgundy suit. I hope you enjoy.
You pick up your phone on the bathroom vanity to check the time again. 4:24.
Why is it taking so long for this curling iron to heat up?
You run back into the main room to grab your phone charger out of your bag and quickly pad back into the brightly light hotel bathroom to plug your phone in, hoping that it will gain enough of a charge to last you through the night. Your flight arrived 2 hours ago, and it was questionable if you were even going to get on it to begin with.
You and Briley were great friends in college, but your communication dropped off after graduation. You were still friends, but not like you used to be. So when you received the invitation to her wedding you were a bit shocked. You immediately told yourself you weren't going but, over the next few weeks you wondered what it would be like if you did go. You wondered if you would see anyone else you knew from college, and you needed a little vacation. So you decided to go.
That is until yesterday. As you tore apart your closet looking for a dress, you were coming up empty. ‘What exactly is Nashville Formal?’ you thought to yourself. The invitation left nearly everything open to interpretation. You would find out later, exactly what that meant, but in the moment you were lost. You eventually decided on an emerald green chiffon spaghetti strap dress with a scooping neckline. Classy but still sexy. It hit about mid calf, and had a slit up the front, showing a little bit of leg. Now, typically you look for any excuse to dress up and go out, but this time you were dreading it. You knew you would more than likely not know anyone else at this wedding and the thought of socializing already had you sweating. Not to mention it would be half of the Nashville music scene in attendance thanks to Marcus. So when the time came to board the plane, you almost made a run for it, back to the safety of your apartment. 
Ultimately you did board the plane, taking the short flight into BNA, giving you roughly two hours to get checked in, and get ready for the wedding. That's where you find yourself now, curling your hair as quickly as possible, and touching up your makeup. You slide on the dress, and fasten the straps on your heels, praying your feet will last the night in these things. 
You pull your phone from the charger in the bathroom, giving yourself one last spritz of perfume, and shoving your phone into your clutch as you head out the door, hearing it slam shut behind you. You call an Uber and see that you will arrive within 5 minutes of when the ceremony is supposed to start. You’ve never really been great with being on time.
As the Uber pulls up outside of the Symphony Hall, you follow the signs and the smell of florals to find people gathering waiting for the ceremony to begin. You quickly rush into the doors and scan the crowd for an open seat. You see a few open seats towards the front, but you are more of a middle, or back type of gal. Needing to make a decision quickly you spot an open chair near the middle, next to a guy in a burgundy suit. 
“Hi, is this seat taken?” you ask in a hushed tone, hearing music beginning to play. 
His eyes flick up to yours, covered by a pair of amber lenses, “No, it's all yours.” he smiles.
You quickly sit as the music gets louder, and groomsmen begin to enter. You look around the room and have yet to see a face that you recognize, as expected. As you turn back to face forward you catch the scent of the cologne the man sitting next to you is wearing, as he continues to peer down the aisle. 
Well that is…a nice smell.
You turn to look at him briefly, and then look to the other guests in the row behind you, that you saw him chatting with when you walked in. One of the girls flashes you a quick side smile before you both turn your attention back to the doors shutting, indicating that the bride is coming. 
You all stand and turn towards the doors as Briley makes her grand entrance. She is even more beautiful than you remember. Of course she is. She was the crush of every guy on campus back then, but she finally found her prince. Her 'King' if you will.
As her father walks her down the aisle past you, you hear clicking behind you and turn to see a tall guy in a red suit snapping photos on his vintage camera. He makes eye contact with you through his sunglasses, ‘did I miss the sunglasses memo?’ and flashes you a toothy grin as you all take your seats. The man next to you turns to whisper something to another guy behind you and you put the pieces together that this must be his group of friends. You try not to eavesdrop but you can't help it when you are sitting directly next to them. 
“Did you see Josh?” the man says.
“Yeah, he was in the middle, they both were.” the man behind you answers. 
“Okay, good.” the man replies. 
You turn your attention back to the front and watch as Briley and Marcus commit themselves to each other for life in a beautiful ceremony. As Marcus reads his vows to Briley you find yourself starting to feel choked up, a small sniffle leaving your nose. But to be fair, you weren’t the only one. 
The man next to you leans over and pulls something out of his pocket, holding it up slightly to you in question, as you try to dry your eyes with the side of your finger. 
He leans to you and offers you a white handkerchief, and you accept with a gracious tight lipped smile. Your fingers brush his hand and a swirl of something flutters through your chest, you think he must have felt it too by the way his eyebrows raised subconsciously. 
You take it from his hand and notice the embroidered initials adorning the corner in beautiful navy blue letters.
DRW
Fancy… Who is this guy?
You quickly dab the white linen at your waterline, collecting your tears and clutching it back in your grip, hoping you wont need it again. As the ceremony concludes you feel his eyes boring into the side of your head. 
Gosh he probably thinks I am some emotional nut case…
The officiant has everyone stand as they have their first kiss and everyone cheers in congratulations. As they make their way back down the aisle as everyone claps, the guys behind you hooting and hollering for their friend. A smile crosses your face as you make eye contact with Briley, and you can tell she is glad you came. 
They walk out the double doors and the officiant invites everyone to join cocktail hour in the great hall. 
As you gather your clutch from under the seat you turn back to the guy next to you and wait for him to finish his conversation. He stops when he sees you waiting. 
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but thanks for letting me borrow this, I was not expecting to cry.” you giggle.
He takes off his sunglasses and folds them up, sliding them into his pocket, and it's only then that you get a good look at his deep chocolate brown eyes that practically suck you into them. Your eyes glance up to the tendrils of curls hanging loosely around his face, the rest of his clearly long and curly locks, pulled tightly into a claw clip. You find your eyes diverting down to his lips as he responds.
“Hey, it happens to the best of us, why do you think I had it?” he says with a wink.
You can feel the crimson blush washing over your face.
Why are you blushing, you don’t even know this man…
“You are very kind.” you say handing him the monogrammed square of fabric. 
He grabs it from your hand and pushes it into his coat pocket. You nod your head and go to turn away, when his hand stops you by resting on your bicep.
“Are you here alone?” he asks.
You turn to face him as guests begin to file out of the space.
“Yeah, I am. I knew Briley in college and decided at the last minute to come. I don’t think I know anyone else here. I was actually planning my escape during the ceremony.” you laugh.
He flashes you a quick smile, as he responds. “Well, I’m Daniel and now you know me. Don’t leave just yet. Come hang out with us, we don't really know anyone here either. Plus I’m the only one in my group without a date, so we can be stag together if you want. I hear it's an open bar...” he says with a laugh.
You bite your lips inwardly, as you turn to look at his group, each one of them with a date, just like he said. You purse your lips and squint your eyes, “Okay… I’ll stay a little longer, but only because I feel bad that you are the only one without a date.” you say playfully.
He shrugs his shoulders and nods his head as it's your turn to exit the seating area. He places his hand on your lower back, the warmth from his large hand radiating up your spine as he guides you out of the row and into the aisle.
You don’t hate this…
He follows behind you and stops you as you wait for the rest of his friends to join you.
He points everyone out, to give you a quick introduction before actually meeting them.
“Red suit is Sam, his girlfriend Hannah in the green dress. Jake, in black, his girlfriend Jita in Blue. I’m Daniel, obviously, and….. Josh…. Is around here somewhere. We will find him later.” he says.
“I think I may remember that, but don’t quiz me later.” you laugh. You quickly tell him your name, just as the group approaches. 
You all make your way to Cocktail Hour and the drinks are already flowing. You all gather around a tall table and the guys decide to go grab drinks.
“What would you like?” Daniel asks you.
“Mmmm maybe a red wine? I’m not picky, whatever they have.” you reply.
“You got it.” he says with a smile.
You and the girls chat at the table as the guys get the drinks. They introduce themselves and ask you how you know the bride. You give them the quick run down on your history with Briley and they tell you theirs. Apparently you are hanging out with a band? Just as you find that out, the guys are returning with drinks. 
“They had Burgundy and Merlot, and to be honest I don’t know the difference. I picked Burgundy.” he says nervously, handing you the glass.
“Seems you have an affinity for Burgundy.” you say pointing at his suit up and down.
“Seems I do.” he says with a smirk, sipping his cocktail.
You all begin to chat with the group, introducing yourself to the rest of the guys and meeting the mysterious Josh they kept mentioning.
Turns out he and Jake are twins, Sam is their younger brother and Daniel is their best friend. They are all in a band together and apparently Daniel is a drummer?
You aren't sure if it's the wine, but your head is spinning with new information. 
“You want another?” he asks, taking your empty glass.
“I don’t know if I should. I do have to make my escape…” you tease.
He slides his hand across your lower back, “You can't leave me yet…” he whispers as he walks away to the bar, shooting you a look over his shoulder. You shake your head and smirk.
How has this man convinced you to stay at this wedding?
A few minutes later he is returning with fresh drinks, and you accept with a whispered thanks.
“Daniel, are we going to see you on the dance floor this evening?” Sam laughs.
“Depends on if I have a good partner…” he says, and all eyes shoot to you.
“Ohhhh, no… no no. I do not dance.” you says waving your hands in front of you.
“Everyone dances if they have had enough to drink.” Jake jokes, and everyone laughs as a small smirk crosses his face.
“I’d have to switch to the hard stuff for that to happen.” you say.
“Can be arranged.” Sam says.
You shake your head and let Josh steer the conversation in a different direction.
Daniel leans over to whisper in your ear, “Sit at our table.” his hand finding its place on your lower back. 
“We have assigned seats…” you whisper back. 
“I know, but when I RSVP’d I had a plus one, the seat was accounted for. Now… it's an empty seat, and I have a new date.” he says, his velvety voice traveling the length of your spine. 
“Is that so…” you reply.
“Sit with me.” he says again, eyes peering into yours. 
You nod slowly, and he bites the inside of his cheek, hoping to stifle the smile that wants to spread across his face.
Forgetting where you two were, you both look back to see the group staring at you suspiciously. 
You both laugh and are perfectly interrupted from an explanation, by the doors to the reception space opening. The space is beautifully lit in pink and green tones, large tables with flowers line the length of the grand ballroom. 
“I think we are up front.” he says, leading you to the table. You are near the dance floor, the looming thought of yourself dancing in the back of your mind sends a shiver through your body.
As you all take your seats you gush over how beautiful the venue is and the choice in colors and design of everything. It’s perfectly Briley and you expected nothing less. She always did love to be vibrant in every aspect of her life. 
A waiter comes by your table, depositing plates of food at each place setting, and taking drink orders. 
As he returns the drinks are served in plastic cups with a caricature of Briley and Marcus, and you know you have to take one of these home. You have switched to vodka tonic and you already know you’ll be at this wedding longer than you ever intended thanks to the beautiful man in the burgundy suit sitting next to you.
The group is fun, someone is always cracking a joke, or telling a funny story. You have been in stitches for over an hour. You make a mental note to look up their band when you get home and see what they sound like. 
The bride and groom enter and immediately go into their first dance, and again there isn’t a dry eye around. Daniel notices your tears and chuckles, shaking his head. Both of you laughing at your emotional state. He places his hand on your thigh, a soothing gesture, but one that heats your body from the inside out. You bite your lip and glance at him, his eyes locking with yours. He looks down to his hand, watching his fingers rub small circles into the soft skin, before he looks back to you and then back to the dance floor. You don’t want his hand to ever leave that spot, but inevitably the dance ends and everyone claps, Daniel included. 
You are having a way better time than you expected and a few drinks later you do find yourself on the dance floor. The glow sticks have been passed out and everyone has had way too much to drink. It is rowdy on the dance floor and you see Josh across the way absolutely tearing it up with strangers. Everyone around him, joining in on his fun. Just from your 10 minutes of conversation with him, you are pretty sure he has never met a stranger in his life. He is a ball of sunshine and everyone around him feels his warmth. 
You turn back to see Daniel approaching you, sliding his hand over your waist and pulling you into him as a slow song begins to play. 
“Oh are we slow dancing Daniel?” you ask playfully.
“Call me Danny, and yes, if you want to that is.” he answers. 
“I do.” you answer.
He smiles, “I think that's the bride's line.” he winks.
You smack his chest playfully and lace your fingers around his neck, letting him lead. 
“I’m glad you don’t have a date.” you say, into his shoulder nervously.
“What do you mean? I have the prettiest date here.” he smiles, sweeping the hair off of your neck.  
You slide your hands under his suit jacket and feel his torso through his black shirt, before running them down his abs and sliding them back up around his neck. 
“You’re warm, you should take the jacket off.” you say playfully.
“Already trying to get me undressed… tsk tsk tsk.” he says jokingly, shaking his head.
“Maybe I am.” you say looking up at him through your lashes. 
“Careful what you wish for.” he says, tongue darting out over his bottom lip.
“Are you a genie? Do I need to rub your magic lamp three times?” you reply.
“Not the lamp, baby...” he says, as he pulls away and heads back to the table, smirking at you over his shoulder.
You find yourself wanting to follow after him, but deciding to keep a bit of distance, mingle a little, get another drink… Make him wait.
As you approach the bar you order yourself a new drink, and make conversation with the people next to you. You are approached by a striking looking blonde man in a black suit. You can tell he is looking to get lucky tonight by his approach.
“What are ya drinkin’” he asks.
You casually look him up and down before answering, “Vodka Tonic” you say.
“Need a new one?” he asks.
“Nah, just got one.” you answer, grabbing a cocktail napkin. 
“Friends with the bride?” he asks, leaning on his elbow.
“Yep, college friends. What about you?” you ask.
“I work with Marcus. Well with his management company.” he answers smugly.
“Oh so you’re a suit.” you reply.
He reaches his hand out and places it on your arm, his ice cold hand sending a shiver through you. “You could say I know people.” 
Okay, what a prick…
A voice comes up behind you, and a hand slides around your waist. “You good, baby? You get your drink?” Danny says, marking his territory. 
“Yeah, I did. Thanks babe.” you say playing into it. His grip on your waist tightening. 
He liked that.
“You trying to steal my girl John?” he playfully asks the other guy.
“My bad dude, didn’t know she was with you.” he replies.
He knows him?
“All good, but yeah, she's with me.” he says, placing a kiss on your cheek.
They shake hands, his other hand never leaving your waist, as John walks away.
He releases you, and you spin to face him. “You know him?” you ask.
“Oh yeah, everyone knows him. He’s kind of a douche.” he says, raising his eyebrows.
“I kinda noticed, thanks for rescuing me.” you say flirty.
“You don't strike me as the kind of girl who needs rescuing. I bet you could have handled him all on your own. However, I couldn’t watch him continue to touch all over my girl.” he says, tracing his pointer finger down the length of your jaw.
“Your girl, huh?” you ask, seductively. 
“Definitely.” he replies in your ear.
You lace your fingers with his and pull him behind you back to the dance floor. They are passing out hats and you both get one, yours reading “This Wedding Sucks” and his reading “Shitty Advice for $1”. You both laugh hysterically at all the funny hats and begin to dance to the music playing. His hands are all over you, and yours all over his. After a few minutes you face him and pull him closer to you, feeling him pressing up against the thin material of your dress. His lips graze the side of your neck, and you lean into it. 
You pull back but lean into his ear, “Wanna go get some air?” you say with a devilish look.
“I thought you’d never ask.” he says, guiding you off the dance floor and through the crowd. You see Sam on the way out, and Danny stops to tell him something, before rejoining you.
You look at him with a smirk.
“Just told him we are stepping outside to get some air…” he says playfully.
You walk out of the ballroom and into the beautiful corridor from earlier. He pulls your hand to the side and you follow after him, walking down a long winding hallway that's dimly lit and practically a ghost town. 
“I found this earlier while looking for the bathroom.” he says, backing you up against a large wooden door. His hands have caged in your head, and you slide your hands around his waist, locking your fingers through the belt loops of his Burgundy suit pants.
His eyes search yours for a few seconds before you answer by pressing your lips to his, feeling all of the pent up tension from the night releasing from you. His hands come down to cup your face as he kisses you again, this time running his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for permission. You open your lips allowing him to slide in. Your tongues dance together in a way that you could never replicate on a real dance floor. You can taste the alcohol on his tongue, and you are sliding your hand up and onto the back of his neck, pulling him in closer to you. As your lips continue to explore each other your other hand wanders down his waist, gliding gently over his belt buckle and resting on the hardened bulge pressing against you. A groan falls from his lips into your mouth and you swallow it down like fine wine. 
He pulls away from you, a whimper leaving your lips at the loss of contact. He looks at you, and looks both ways down the hallway before twisting the door handle.
The door opens behind you and he pushes you in, closing it quickly behind you, twisting the lock and flicking the light switch. 
It's a very small room, just a chair, a small table and a piano. You look around the room puzzled, as Danny smiles and answers your silent question.
“It’s a practice room. This hallway is lined with them. I told you I couldn’t find the bathroom.” he laughs.
You slide his coat over his arms and he throws it onto the chair. He takes the clip out of his hair, and lets his curls hang freely on his shoulders.
Holy shit, he is hot.
He pulls his black turtleneck over his head, revealing his chiseled tan torso. Your hands instantly reach out to touch his skin, hot and flushed. His hands reach for your face, pulling you up to meet his lips as he kisses you over and over. 
Your hands reach his belt buckle and begin to unfasten the metal and leather. Your fingers shakily unbutton the buttons on his slacks and glide the zipper down. Your hand slides into the front of his pants over his boxers and you can feel the magnitude of what he was hiding under the pants. 
He slides his hands over your shoulders pushing the thin green straps over the curve of your shoulders letting them fall to your arms. His finger traces the dipping neckline of the dress, leaving a trail of goosebumps across your chest. 
“So responsive…” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your collarbone.
You reach behind you and pull the zipper down on your dress, letting it fall around your ankles, leaving you in just your thong. You feel his rough fingers come up to meet your hardened nipple and roll it beneath his thumb and forefinger. 
You hook your fingers into his boxers and tug downward, pushing them and his pants down his legs, letting his dick spring free. You place a kiss on his collarbone, just like he did to you, but you don’t stop there, you continue down his chest, placing soft kisses as you make your descent. 
“Now what was it about my wishes?” you ask in a flirty tone.
When you reach his groin you push him backwards to sit in the club chair. Crawling up to meet him, you take his length into your hand and a groan leaves his lips. You look directly into his eyes as you lick from his base to the tip, his hands clawing into the leather chair.
“Don’t you rub the magic lamp three times to get your wish?” you say, pressing a kiss to his tip.
You take him into your mouth and begin to bob your head slowly up and down his length until you have worked him up to a good speed. You know you have hit that point when he is unable to stop the string of groans and curses falling from his mouth. He refocuses and looks at you, grabbing your head and pressing you closer to him and further down your throat. You moan around him as he grazes the back of your throat. 
“Fuck…” he says, releasing his grip on your hair, and letting you pull back and releasing him from your lips.
“Keep going, do it harder.” you say, placing your mouth back around him.
“You sure?” he asks.
You nod in response. You begin to suck him back into your mouth and he replaces his hand on your head, this time forcing himself further down your throat with a little more pressure. As he hits the back of your throat repeatedly, you suppress the gag by gripping your hand into his legs. 
“God you’re so gorgeous…fuck me…” he says, in a breathy pant.
The wet noises coming from your throat are obviously doing something for him as you feel his dick begin to twitch in your mouth. Tears are pooling in your eyes slowly leaking out of the corners. 
Swirling your tongue as you work his tip, he starts to thrust his hips into your mouth. 
“I’m close baby, do you want to…” he starts before you pull away and cut him off.
“In my mouth.” you say and he groans. 
With a few more thrusts into the back of your mouth you feel him tense up and the warm rush of his release spills down the back of your throat. You swallow him down and pull off of him with a kiss above his base, watching him as he quickly grabs his coat from behind him, pulling out his handkerchief from earlier.
“How many times are you going to cry tonight, baby?” he says, wiping the tears from your face, and the spit from your lips. “The only thing I want you to cry, is my name.”
You stand up and push him back in the chair. You make a show out of sliding your panties down your legs and crawling onto his lap. Straddling his still hard length, you press a kiss to his lips. His fingers run slowly through your folds, collecting the wetness on his fingertips.
“Oh, you’re ready aren’t you baby... I think you earned your wish.” he says, grabbing his dick and lining it up with your center.
He places his hands on your hips and you slowly sink down onto him, with a groan. You wrap your hands around his neck and lean forward to kiss him, his tongue swirling with yours. You lift your hips off of him slowly before crashing back down into him. A moan leaves his chest as you clench around him at the sound. 
“Oh you feel so good, so tight… Jesus…” he pants.
His hands are guiding your hips up and down his length, and you are enjoying the constant pressure on your g spot. His mouth connects with your nipple, his tongue swirling around the tight flesh. You start to roll your hips in a wave pattern as he groans into your chest. He pulls back from you and locks eyes with you.
“Stand up.” he demands.
You slide off of his lap and stand, he stands to meet you and pulls the chair from behind him.
“Lean over the back.” he says, and you follow his instruction.
He positions himself behind you and grabs both of your hips in his hands, guiding you to meet his length. He presses into you at a new angle and you both cry out at the feeling.
He begins to furiously pound into you, hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves in just the right way, that you can feel the tension growing in your stomach.
The sounds of your skin slapping together so loud, you are positive anyone who walks by will know exactly what is happening. 
“Say it. Say my name baby. Tell me who is making you feel good.” he says punctuating each sentence with a deep thrust.
“Daniel! Fuck, you are. You make me feel so good Danny. Keep going.” you cry out.
“That’s right.” he grunts into you. “You’re my girl. I make my girl fucking feel good.” he says, twitching inside of you.
“Danny please…” you beg.
“I’m gonna cum baby, I need you to cum with me.” he says, reaching around the front of your hips, and placing his fingers on your clit. 
You moan at the sensation, as he swirls perfectly in rhythm with his thrusts.
“I’m there Danny, I’m there, fucking cum…” you beg him.
“God damn….” he says, with one final thrust, both of you reaching your release simultaneously, his hot ropes of cum painting your insides. You’re glad the chair is supporting your weight because you would have surely collapsed with the sheer force of the orgasm washing over you. 
As he pulls out of you, his release threatens to spill down your thigh.
You feel the soft familiar feeling of the handkerchief begin to wipe away the evidence. Danny cleaning you up the best he could with the small piece of fabric.
You stand back up and turn to face him, his free arm snaking around your waist and pulling you into him for a desperate and passionate kiss. Your hands find his curls, and scratch against his scalp as the kiss grows deeper. You feel his hands gripping to your back like life or death and you still don't feel close enough.  
He pulls away quickly, scooping up your panties and handing them to you. You smile and slide them back on, before stepping back into your dress. You know the party is winding down and you have to get back before anyone gets suspicious. Danny quickly redresses himself and fixes his hair the best he can without a mirror. He slides his coat back on, shoving the soiled handkerchief into his pocket with a smirk.
He is so gorgeous...
He zips the back of your dress and places a soft kiss on the back of your neck, before spreading your hair over your shoulders.
“Beautiful.” he whispers, looking at you before unlocking the door. 
He pokes his head out to see if there is anyone coming, and he quickly rushes both of you out, turning off the light and quietly shutting the door. 
“I should stop by the bathroom….” you say.
“Oh no you don’t, you’re gonna keep that right where I left it. I am going to check on it later.” he says with a kiss on your shoulder. Your face flames bright red at the thought of a repeat later.
As you walk back into the ballroom you search for the group and find them all sitting at the table, talking and being rowdy.
“Daniel! You have returned brother!” Sam says playfully in his drunken state.
“Yeah where have you been Daniel?” Jake asks with a smug look.
“We were just getting some air....” he says with a smile.
Jake turns to his girlfriend, “Remember when we got air at your cousin's wedding?” he says with a devilish laugh.
The table erupts with laughter and you both know your cover is blown. 
“Jake!” she says smacking his arm. She turns to you and apologizes, “I’m sorry, he has clearly had too much to drink.” she laughs.
You grab your trucker hats from the table and put them on, to fit in with everyone else proudly displaying theirs. 
You both sit down and talk for a little bit longer until the Newlyweds decide to make their grand exit. The reception was fantastic and you couldn’t imagine this night without Daniel. You are so glad you chose to stay. 
As you make your way out of the reception hall, you are arm in arm with Daniel. He has invited you to come with him to the after party and you have graciously accepted. You walk through the front door of the Symphony Hall, and around the side of the building, he stops you and spins you around, dipping you down dramatically for a kiss. He pulls you back up and places his hand on your cheek.
Looking at his hat again you quickly dig a dollar bill out of your clutch and extend it to him.
“What's this?” he asks.
“Your hat. It says shitty advice for $1… but how about you give me good advice instead.” you say leaning into him.
“Hmmm… good advice?” he asks, as you continue the walk to his car.
“Mhmm…” you say, stepping into the car, as he closes the door behind you. 
He slides into the driver's seat, and starts the car. He turns to face you, and places his hand on your thigh.
He smirks and laughs to himself before he finally says, “My grandpa always told me, 'never leave home without a handkerchief'. Now I know why.”
.
.
.
.
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sc0tters · 9 months
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On Ice Masterlist
the one where the captain of the Penguins learns to put up with the team's new rookie.
introduction ☆
➞ meet rory hughes
blurbs ☆
➞ story behind rory's number
➞ rory and her brothers
➞ the time rory and jack fought
➞ was rory prepared for college?
➞ the first phone call
➞ how rory and jack fight
➞ the time child rory wore sid jersey
➞ rory loves edits of sid
at pittsburgh
➞ moving to pittsburgh
➞ pressure fitting in
➞ who learns about the call first?
➞ how do the boys react to her crying?
➞ the day rory celebrated many goals
➞ jack gets sidney back
➞ the post game interview
➞ why does sidney hate rory?
➞ rory’s first fight
➞ does rory ever put sidney in his place?
➞ ellen's main cause of stress
➞ why did rory join a mens team?
➞ rory finally yelled at sidney
➞ when their teammates realised something was up
➞ rory being a little shit
➞ kris looking out for rory
➞ rory and matthew moments
➞ when things got serious
➞ does rory get traded?
➞ when rory gets a surprise
➞ how are they together?
➞ that jenga video
➞ rory and sid in bed
➞ rory holds sid back
➞ clingy rory after a game
➞ the time the team teased her
➞ nhl awards
➞ rory and her fluff pants
➞ when rory tried to defend sid
➞ the time sidney and rory played together
➞ the fights rory has had with her brothers
➞ rory and luke
➞ rory is every child's favourite
➞ the first pregnancy scare
➞ sids reaction to the pregnancy scare
➞ drunk rory and sober sid
➞ when rory found out sid was went to the board
➞ geno checks on rory
➞ geno is a child
➞ how did the hughes take the news
➞ sid praising rory
at nashville
➞ why is rory in nashville
➞ rory got traded
➞ sid finally learns how he made rory feel
➞ rory protecting luke in a fight
➞ the time quinn fought sid
➞ geno comes to visit
➞ sid got sent home from practice
➞ more rory and nikita
➞ nikita comes to watch rory
➞ the conversation in rorys apartment
➞ rory got hurt
➞ rory and sid make up
➞ what the world has to say about sid and rory
➞ rory said I love you first
➞ rory got hurt again
back at pittsburgh
➞ rory babysits nikita
➞ when do they get pregnant
➞ rory actually being pregnant
➞ nikita loves rory
➞ more rory and nikita
➞ rory on snl
retired sid thoughts
➞ rory loving retired sid
➞ rory finally listens
➞ sid being hurt by the pregnancy
➞ rory doesn't want three kids
➞ clingy rory
➞ rory getting the c
➞ sids reaction to the pregnancy
life with triplets
➞ what are their names
➞ sid loves momma rory
➞ the trips are rory's biggest fan
➞ rory wants to do too much for the kids
➞ the kids at her all star game
➞ stay at home dad sid
➞ sid alone with the kids
➞ the time sidney proposed
➞ christmas morning with the trips
social media edits ☆
➞ coming soon!
138 notes · View notes
wehaveagathering · 6 months
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Who Does the NHL Instagram Account Love? It's not the Flyers. A (shortish) Statistical Analysis (December 1-15, 2023)
(I don't know anything about statistics.)
Recently, as a Flyers fan, I've kind of become sick and tired of seeing the @NHL instagram account NOT post my team. Of course, every fan of any team is going to feel their team is'nt getting enough love online, but I had a feeling that I wasn't just making this up. So I counted every single post so far in the month of December – from the 1st to the 15th – and added up each time the NHL instagram posted each team.
Qualifications for what counted as a post:
It could not be the list of nightly scores or weekly power rankings.
It could not be an official game announcement. Unofficial game announcements, like Connor v Connor graphics, were allowed.
It could not be a trade or coaching change – but signings did count.
If it was a video of a play during a game, the post counted as a tally for the the team with the successful play.
Any sort of list, play-of-game compilations, or fantasy team counted. However, if a team was listed twice in a post, they could still only receive one tally. In this essay I will –
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The average number of posts per team was 18.47 and the median was 17.5 out of the 591 posts I counted. It's important to note that because I didn't count other types of posts – official NHL compilation videos with different players, game announcements, scoresheets at the end of every night – that the total number of posts between now and December 1st was probably around 700. I didn't look too closely at that number.
The team with the most points was the Canucks (20-9-1), with an outstanding 39 total posts, 6.6% of the total posts and 11 tallies ahead of second place with 28. Of course, the prevalence of Quinn Hughes and Brock Boeser on league-leading stat sheets, as well as the Hughes Bowl in early December and the recent influx of Luongo posting all helped to bolster this number.
Trailing behind them in the high twenties were the Rangers (20-7-1) with 28, the Oilers (13-13-1) with 27, the Devils (15-11-1), Isles (14-7-8), and Lightning (14-12-5) with 26, and the Avalanche (18-9-2) with a measly 25. All of these teams save for the Islanders had the help of league-leading scorers on their teams, which bolstered them in the compilation-post and fantasy-team standings.
On the opposite hand, trailing in the single digits were the Montreal Canadiens (12-13-4), Seattle Kraken (10-14-7), and yes, the Philadelphia Flyers (16-10-3), with 8, 9, and 9 posts respectively. (That is 4.39% or 4.4% percent of the total posts – these three teams combined for less posts than the Canucks.) The Nashville Predators (17-13-0) and the Calgary Flames (11-14-5) barely scraped into the double digits with 10 posts to their name each. The Flyers and Flames both struggled to even get on the board, and were the last two teams without a post after 3 days, when Carter Hart made a Goalie Save of the Week compilation. The Flames got on the board after 4 days worth of posts with a Noah Hanifin assist against the Avalanche.
Generally, better teams got posted more, and worse teams got posted less, but that wasn't always the case. (Clearly – the San Jose Sharks were posted 22 times! I love you san jose ❤️) Look at the Flyers and the Predators – two teams who have been good surprises this season, but have been neglected by @ NHL. Out of the teams who have been posted the least, the Flyers and the Preds have the best standings. On 12.15.23 the Flyers were at 16-10-3 with a .603 points percentage, and the Preds were at 17-13-0 with a .567 points percentage. Despite these extremely decent and reasonable stats, and the Flyers currently sitting in a playoff spot in the Metro, both these teams were only posted 9 and 10 times in the first half of December – out of 591 posts! That seems unreasonable.
In the first half of December, the Flyers received 3 solo posts for goals from Cam York, Sean Couturier, and Tyson Foerster. The Preds received 4 solo posts for goals from Yakov Trenin, two from Filip Forsberg, and Colton Sissons.
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This other one though, that according to my rules, I had to count, pissed me off. These two tiny names counted as 10% of the total December postings for these two teams.
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Knowing that this was the kind of post that counted for so many of these teams, this was the kind of post that bolstered the scores of the Oilers and the Canucks and the Devils, makes it nearly all the more egregious that this was the extent that it took to acknowledge the Flyers and the Preds.
Also, I think if I counted the posts that included videos of plays made against the Flyers in the games that the Flyers won, I would go absolutely bananas, despite the fact that, FOR example, Konecny is tied for 8th in goals this season with Pastrnak and Panarin. Konecny, with 16 goals and 24 points so far this season, was posted one time, on a December 5th Play of the Night compilation post with... three Coyotes. Compare this to the two 12.2.23 solo posts celebrating a Pastrnak goal.
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Clearly, there's favorites. And it has nothing to do with how well a team is playing. The Edmonton Oilers, Chicago Blackhawks, and San Jose Sharks are sittin pretty in the bottom ten teams in the league but have a combined total of 66 posts. Is it about the engagement each team gets? Maybe people don't interact with Flyers or Preds or Kraken posts as much as the other ones. Is it secretly Gary Bettman, who hates me and the Flyers personally? Does the NHL just not like the Flyers? On another topic – does the amount that these teams are posted correspond with the amount they're posted on other sites, like Twitter or Tumblr?
And this isn't even getting into how approximately half of the posts about the Ducks were about Leo Carlsson, or the Caps were just Ovechkin, or the poor Montreal Canadiens, who are being shunted to the wayside to make room for the Chicago Blackhawks and their 32nd-in-the-league standing and their 17 posts, 16 of which seem to be about Connor Bedard. I didn't record these numbers, but they sure as hell SEEMED like this was the case, and I've learned to trust my gut.
I definitely know what I want to look for and need to figure out how I want to document these stats differently in the second half of December for a more thorough analysis on the types of post each team is receiving. This has been an interesting, if frustrating experiment, and I'm looking forward to part 2. I love you Flyers and I love you hockey, and I... I don't love you, NHL. You can rot.
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dertaglichedan · 2 months
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FAA investigating possible close call between Southwest flight and air traffic control tower
The Federal Aviation Administration is looking into a Southwest flight that veered off course while on approach to land at New York's LaGuardia Airport and may have buzzed the air traffic control tower with as little as 67 feet of clearance, CBS News has learned. 
The incident occurred around 1 p.m. on Saturday, March 23, when pilots of Southwest Flight 147 aborted their first approach because of bad weather. While on final approach of their second landing attempt, an air traffic controller is heard urgently telling the pilots of the Boeing 737 to "go around" and climb to 2,000 feet. 
"Go around! Go around!" Fly runway heading, climb and maintain 2,000. Climb and maintain 2,000. 2,000," the air traffic controller said, according to a feed from liveatc.net.
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The plane had apparently drifted to the east and was no longer lined up with the runway. Preliminary flight tracking data from Flightradar24 put the airliner at an altitude of 300 feet when it began to climb. The FAA said it's investigating to see if the off-course airliner flew over the 233-foot tall air traffic control tower. 
Flightradar24's flight tracker map put the plane over the terminal building, not the runway. It appears the plane flew over the parking garage immediately adjacent to the air traffic control tower, based on Flightradar24's approximate track.  
The same controller told the pilots a few minutes later their plane, "was not aligned with the runway at all. It was like east of final. He was not gonna land on the runway."  
The airline said there were 147 passengers and six crew members on board the flight from Nashville. 
Southwest told CBS News the airline is "reviewing the event as part of our Safety systems." The carrier said the plane encountered turbulence and low visibility while approaching LGA. 
Southwest Flight 147 elected to briefly divert to Baltimore/Washington International Airport, where it landed safely. It then eventually landed safely in New York.
*** I have talked to a Airline pilot, who told me we are so close to a major incident. DEI / Wokeism is behind much of it on both sides. ATC & Airlines...
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madneedshelp · 1 year
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Hold Me Steady - Josh Kiszka x F!Reader
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Summary: Josh catches you having a nightmare and comforts you
Warnings: mentions and descriptions of abuse
Josh Kiszka knew a lot about you. No, that wasn’t even the right words to encompass it. He knew you. He was probably the only one that knew most of your deep, dark secrets. The insecurities, fears, hopes, dreams, all of it. He knew and he loved you regardless, and you loved him in return. 
Despite that, there were details about your past that you hadn’t told him. Not fully. He knew about your ex boyfriend, Carson, the one you dated before him. He knew that the break up was messy and difficult. You just couldn’t muster up the nerve to tell Josh about the abuse. The way Carson would verbally manipulate you and put you down almost daily, the way he would hit you if he didn’t like the way you spoke to him or behaved around his friends or family. 
As much as you hated to admit it, you were too ashamed to confess it all. You had been with Josh for a year or so, and you trusted him with all your heart, but you couldn’t say it. Even with the chapter of your life permanently in the past, it still held some power over you, and you absolutely despised that. 
It was then, about a year into your relationship with Josh, that he found out about it all. 
One night, you had went out with Josh and you saw a man that looked so similar to Carson. You thought it was him. Even though you had moved from Atlanta to Nashville after the break up to ensure he’d never find you again, the man looked similar enough that that fact slipped from your head. It didn’t matter that it didn’t make sense for him to be there, you were just planning how you and Josh could slip out of that bar as quickly as possible. 
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Josh furrowed his brow in concern as he eyed you. 
You had gone stiff ever since the man entered the bar, but once he got closer you realized it wasn’t Carson after all. Still, you were visibly afraid. “I’m okay, Josh. Thought I saw someone I knew, but it wasn’t.”
His gaze told you he wasn’t sure he believed your brush off, but you loosened up and gave him a smile. You didn’t want this to ruin your night. 
“You sure you’re fine? We can leave right now if you want to.” Josh assured you, expression turning serious in an instant. 
You shook your head. “No, let’s stay. We haven’t been out in a while. I’m good, I promise.”
Josh nodded and you both finished your drinks before heading to the dance floor. His brothers eventually showed up with their girlfriends and you all ended up having a great night. Everything was fine. 
Then, like it tended to do, your past snuck up on you. As soon as your eyes closed in bed that night, you drifted off into the worst nightmare you’d had in months. 
You were back in your Atlanta apartment. As you slipped off your heels, you sighed and hung up your coat on the rack. Carson followed silently behind you as you plopped down on your shared bed. You had been out clubbing all night and you were thoroughly exhausted. 
“What the fuck was that?” Carson growled from the bedroom doorway.
You propped yourself up on your elbows. “What was what?”
“All that flirting with the goddamn bartender, you whore.”
You groaned. “Carson, not this again. You know it wasn’t like that at all.”
He took a step toward you, rage radiating off him. You scrambled back until you hit the head board. The smallest thing would set him off and as soon as he started acting this way you knew what was coming. 
“Who the fuck are you to tell me what I saw. Because you know what I saw, Sweetie? I saw a shameless little slut trying to fuck a stranger right in front of her own damn boyfriend.” Carson stalked right up to you and grabbed your chin in his hands, holding tight to the point where it hurt. 
You shook your head as much as you could with his grip on you. “Please, I swear I would never do that. I love you, I promise, I love you.”
Your pleads were interrupted as he slapped you across the face. “Don’t fucking lie to me! I don’t want your bullshit, Y/N. You get what all lying whores deserve.” He spat the words in your face and moved his free hand to your neck.
Just before his fingers closed around your throat, you were pulled from the dream. 
You bolted upright in bed, panting and frantic. You looked around the room wildly. 
“Where is he? Where is he?” You muttered repeatedly. 
“Where is who? Baby, what’s going on? Are you alright? You were screaming.” Josh lightly placed a hand on your arm as he looked at you with pleading eyes. Scared eyes. 
You jumped back from his touch and instantly hated yourself for the way he winced out of guilt. You surveyed the room until you were once again sure this was your bedroom in Nashville that you shared with Josh. Carson wasn’t here. He never had been. It was just a stupid, awful nightmare. 
“Y/N, please talk to me. I just want to know that you’re okay.” Josh’s broken whisper broke your trance. 
You looked over at him and fresh tears fell on your already soaked cheeks. You crawled over to him and flung your arms around him. 
“It was just a dream.” You mumbled into his chest as you clung on for dear life. “All a dream.”
He brought his arms around you in return, holding you loosely enough to not feel trapped, but closely enough to be comforting. He didn’t bombard you with an interrogation or demand answers immediately. Josh simply sat and held you. Again, he knew you and he could always sense what you seemed to need in a given moment. 
After what felt like a small eternity, you felt calm enough to pull away from him and wipe away the old tears staining your face. 
You took a long, shaky breath before you spoke again. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
Josh’s terrified eyes instantly turned sad as he shook his head. “No, never apologize for that. You don’t need to apologize for something you’re feeling, especially something you can’t control. I just hate that you had to feel that at all.”
That in itself almost brought about a fresh wave of tears. He was too good to you. Well, that’s what it felt like sometimes anyway. 
“I just…it had been so long…I thought maybe they finally stopped.” You whispered.
Josh was silent for a beat. “Do you want to talk about it.”
You thought for a moment. Of course you didn’t necessarily want to talk about it, but you did want to tell him. You were tired of feeling like you were hiding something from him. 
“That guy at the bar earlier. He looked like Carson. I guess it just brought up some bad memories. I used to get these nightmares after we broke up, but they had pretty much stopped by the time I met you. Seeing that guy tonight must’ve made them resurface. Carson…he was abusive. I didn’t move to Nashville for work, I was running from him after I left him.” You admitted. 
Josh sat in patient silence as he let you spill all the gory details of your previous relationship. By the time you finished, you ended up back in his lap, folded in an embrace. 
“Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I wish I could take it all away. I wish I could undo it for you.” His voice broke and you noticed how glassy his eyes had grown. “I promise, as long as I live, no one will ever lay a hand on you like that ever again.” 
You gave him a sad smile and pulled him into a kiss. It did feel better to tell him. You felt just the smallest bit lighter. 
As the two of you finally started to fall back asleep, still entwined, you had a thought. Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that the nightmares stopped as Josh entered your life. He helped you realize that you finally felt safe.
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taylore · 11 months
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February - May 2008 | The Introduction of The Johns™️, Joe Bro and Emma Stone/The (Brief) Return of Liz & Julianne
February 5th
Taylor films for the show "Dance War" and recognizes Liz. She mentions something had always "stuck out" about her, and that she wishes her the best.
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February 9th
Taylor does an interview with The Wallstreet Journal.
She is asked to name 5 of her most recent downloads.
She most notably mentions the song "Hero/Heroine" by the band Boys Like Girls, as well as Slow Dancing In A Burning Room by John Mayer.
Taylor's mention of the band inspires them to reach out to her.
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February
Taylor writes "You'll Always Find Your Way Back Home," with the band's lead singer, Martin Johnson, for Hannah Montana The Movie.
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Some context: Rumours of a relationship between Martin and Taylor have existed for years - said rumours were seemingly confirmed in 2016 by Ashley Tisdale. Though, she also states that Taylor told her she had never written any songs about Ashley's ex.
Ashley Tisdale's dating life is far less high profile than Taylor's.
So, her brief relationship with Martin from December 2011 - March 2012 is the only (public) relationship she could have been referencing in the clip.
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Martin has also allegedly made several comments about his and Taylor's relationship.
In November of 2009, a comment was posted to an online message board that claimed that Martin had drunkenly revealed he had taken Taylor's virginity.
Earlier this year, another comment was left on a reddit post that claimed that he had come into this person's workplace, and ranted about how awful she was, and that the two had dated for 6 months.
Of course, there's no way to legitimately confirm whether he actually said these things (or whether they're true) but it's an important note.
He has also mentioned how his relationships during this time were primarily physical, as he and the girls he was dating were so similar that they ran out of things to talk about.
March
Taylor sees Julianne Hough at an event and the two are pictured together.
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Taylor records Love Story about a guy her parents disapprove of.
This guy is believed to be Martin.
However, though the song was recorded in 2008, Taylor (59:15) and her mother (3:30) have both insisted that it was written when Taylor was 17 (2007) before she met Martin.
The actual muse for the song is once again unclear.
Regardless of if Martin inspired the song, if the two were genuinely together at any point in time (which I believe they were) , February - April is, in my opinion, the most likely time for it to have happened; though it is important to note that Boys Like Girls were on the road as openers for Avril Lavigne during this time, so interactions between Martin and Taylor would've been limited. Martin was also living in Brooklyn at the time, while Taylor was living in Nashville.
March 26th
Taylor is interviewed by Billboard and is once again asked about her music taste.
She once again mentions both Boys Like Girls and John Mayer (as well as... Kanye West).
She even goes so far as to state that "Hero/Heroine" is her current ringtone.
April
Taylor films her Once Upon a Prom MTV special, and is seen wearing Boys Like Girls merchandise in the studio (2:30).
April 27th
Taylor meets Emma Stone (the believed inspiration behind When Emma Falls In Love, and depending on who you ask, Enchanted) at The Young Hollywood Awards.
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During the writing process of Speak Now, Emma dated (fell in looooove with) Teddy Geiger (2007-2009) and Kiernan Culkin (2010-2011).
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She and Andrew Garfield did not start going out until 2011, after Taylor had finished writing the album (sorry to break it to you stonefield (???) truthers).
Prior to performing the song, Taylor stated she wrote it about one of her best friends, solidifying that Emma Stone is the inspiration (yes, I'm aware she has friendships with both Emma Roberts and (apparently) Emma Watson, but c'mon).
May 5th
Taylor meets John Mayer at the Met Gala and later gushes about it in a now deleted interview with People Magazine.
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Some more context: In 2010, while presenting Taylor with the Hal David Starlight Award at the Songwriters Hall of Fame, John Mayer explained that prior to meeting Taylor, he would consistently ask those within her circle who was "really" writing her songs. Each of them responded with "she is" yet despite this, he did not believe them, nor did he believe Taylor when she gave the same answer upon being asked the question, until she quite literally wrote one in front of him (0:40).
So, putting that into perspective: 30-year-old John Mayer (who did not believe Taylor wrote her own songs) introduced himself to 18-year-old Taylor Swift (who looked up to him as a songwriting hero) over 6 months prior to him reaching out to collaborate.
May 11th
Taylor writes a journal entry about meeting a bunch of celebrities, though she does not mention John.
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Bonus: this clip from an interview done at some point in 2008
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On a lighter note
May
The Jonas Brothers film their Burnin' Up music video, and Joe Jonas' love interest bares a striking resemblance to Taylor.
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Nick's is played by Selena (who he was dating at the time), so the love interests are significant.
So, either Joe and Taylor were like.. kind of a thing, or Joe had a bit of a crush (or maybe their publicists set it up. I don't know these people).
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elvis1970s · 2 years
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Presley’s Center Courts was a failed business arrangement that Elvis became embroiled in during 1976. There seem to be many conflicting versions of this story, and no one comes out of it particularly well.
The plan was for a nationwide chain of branded, upmarket racquetball and spa facilities, Presley’s Center Courts, for which Elvis would lend his name and in return receive 25 per cent of the company. Elvis was assured it was a risk-free commitment and a good long term prospect, requiring no cash investment on his part. Elvis might have seen this as a way to forge some business and financial independence from Colonel Parker. The driving force behind the project was a local Memphis property developer and businessman, Mike McMahon, along with Dr Nichopoulos and Joe Esposito.
According to Elvis biographer Peter Guralnick;
"…They had broken ground on the Memphis and Nashville clubs in the middle of April (1976) …but then things started to go wrong, as McMahon claimed that Elvis had to put up money for a buyout of the leases on the two buildings currently under construction, and when Elvis balked, informed him that by becoming 25 percent owner of the corporation, he was liable for 25 percent of its debts…"
Elvis then discovered that McMahon had been taking a salary and was funding a company car from the business account, despite assurances from Nichopoulos that no one would be taking anything out until the business showed a profit. Elvis appealed to Colonel Parker for help, but Parker reminded Elvis that he had been against the whole affair from the start, that a 25% stake in a company at no cost had always been too good to be true, and that it was too late for any kind of intervention.
Elvis took matters into his own hands. In a late night and not entirely coherent phone call to McMahon, with whom the relationship had to this point been cordial, Elvis let him have it, and even allegedly threatened to kill him. Nichopoulos mediated, telling McMahon not to worry and that irrational rage was a side effect of Elvis’ medication regime, and that Elvis would soon calm down. Nichopoulos wasn’t spared, himself the subject of a midnight call during which Elvis fired him and robustly expressed his disappointment at being taken advantage of.
Through his lawyers, Elvis subsequently withdrew his support for Presley’s Center Courts and instructed that his name be removed from the project. Following some legal manoeuvres, it appears that Elvis did pay some compensation to the racquetball company and loaned them around 40 000 dollars on top of 25 000 dollars damages, and the business continued without Elvis’ name until it folded in 1981. (The loan was apparently repaid promptly).
Nichopoulos was soon forgiven, as was Joe Esposito. The following year Elvis loaned a further 55 000 dollars to Nichopoulos, on top of an existing loan of 200 000 dollars, as the doctor was struggling with debt over a lavish new home. (As if Nichopoulos wasn't ethically compromised enough already).
According to the New York Times;
"...In 1980 Dr. Nichopoulos was indicted on 14 counts of overprescribing stimulants, depressants and painkillers for Presley, the singer Jerry Lee Lewis and several other patients. Two counts dealing with Presley accused Dr. Nichopoulos of “unlawfully, wilfully and feloniously” prescribing, in the months leading to Presley’s death, a cornucopia of narcotics, painkillers, depressants and appetite suppressants..."
Dr. Nichopoulos was acquitted of all charges, but in 1995 the Tennessee Board of Medical Examiners permanently suspended his medical license, stating that he had been overprescribing to numerous patients for years. He tried multiple times to have his medical licence reinstated through appeals, but failed. He died in 2016, aged 88.
(Sources: Careless Love: The Unmaking of Elvis Presley by Peter Guralnick, comments credited to Nichopoulos by YouTube channel ElvisistheMan, New York Times obituaries. Website of Heritage Auctions)
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ausetkmt · 1 year
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Image: courtesy of Ricky Codio/Ricky Codio Photography
“The creation of Black Music Month was the brainchild of Grammy Award winning songwriter/producer and one of the architects of The Sound of Philadelphia (TSOP) Kenny Gamble,” schools Dyana Williams, the music industry veteran and celebrity strategist. The songwriter/producer—along with his partner Leon Huff—has created countless classics, including “If You Don’t Know Me By Now,” originally recorded by Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes; “For the Love of Money” by The O’Jays; and Teddy Pendergrass’ “Turn Off the Lights.”
“When he established the Black Music Association in the late 1970s, we were a couple at that point; we had two children,” continues Williams, whose illustrious road to premier Black music advocate and tag as “the Mother of Black Music Month” began as a radio pioneer, holding her own on the airwaves during a time when women were woefully underrepresented.
It was a collective effort to that day on June 7, 1979 when President Jimmy Carter hosted the reception at the White House that made Black Music Month official. Williams, who played a critical role, describes it as “a coming together of various aspects of the music industry to celebrate and recognize this multibillion-dollar industry, not just the songwriters and the singers, people behind the scenes as well.” 
Williams' love of Black music, she shares, was sparked in her native New York City at a very early age. As a child, Williams learned how to dissect music. She grew up knowing where songs were recorded, who wrote them, who sang them, who played on them, who engineered them, who produced them and more. Later the daughter of Puerto Rican parents would mix and mingle with those same folks, even dating musicians as well as forming meaningful relationships with many other titans. City College of New York’s radio station WCCR gave her the first taste of what being a behind-the-scenes mover and shaker could be. 
“I was the music director. I had a jazz show, but I also availed myself of student funds to produce concerts to bring artists to the school,” she says. At a time when very few women were on the air, she took her cues from one legendary figure who is today best known for Mama, I Want To Sing!. “Vy Higginsen was on the radio at WBLS and she's the first Black woman that I listened to that inspired me to want to be on the radio,” shares Williams. 
Although radio no longer physically occupies as much of her time as it did throughout her life, even as she raised her three kids, Black music still keeps her busy. She is the president and founder of the International Association of African-American Music Foundation, which organizes conferences and educational symposiums as well as produces panels that communicate the vastness of Black music. In addition, IAAAM has honored many Black music greats, including Stevie Wonder, Patti LaBelle, Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, Babyface and L.A. Reid. She’s also a board member of the Nashville-based National Museum of African American Music (NMAAM), which recently honored Missy Elliott. TV One fans also recognize her as a frequent and trusted contributor to the network’s acclaimed series Unsung.
Even as Williams enters her 70s later this year, advocating for Black music is a personal mission and calling from which she can’t retire. And for good reason. “Black music deserves champions and advocates, and that's what I see myself as,” she insists. “Black Music is American music created in this country and exported culturally, but also economically. We don't tend to think of it that way, but the reality is that Black music is big business. I'm talking about not millions of dollars, but billions of dollars. We are the trendsetters. We are the weathervane so to speak. We’re the taste. We’re the flavor all over the planet. It is us and I see myself as a person who uses her platform, whether it's social media, whether it is talking with [journalists] to spread the word about the magnificence, the viability, and the power of Black music.”
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taylortruther · 2 years
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i frequently think about how people who discredit taylor's creative process, or her emotional growth, seem to willfully misunderstand writing and creating art in general.
often, writers (of any kind) aren't writing autobiographically. but an artist creates in order to share their perspective of the world, their personal philosophies, their insights on life. how can you write about any of those things, without mentioning your own experiences? writing is a deeply personal art.
take one of my favorite authors, curtis sittenfeld. she's actually a wonderfully apt comparison for how taylor writes. some quick background: curtis is currently 47, grew up in ohio, attended an extremely selective and elite boarding school in massachusetts throughout high school.
prep ~era~
her first novel was called prep, about a young girl who grew up in indiana and attended an elite private school in boston. clearly drawn from her personal history, but it's fiction. the ny times even wrote about this very thing.
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the man of my dreams era
then, at age 29-30, curtis wrote the man of my dreams, a coming-of-age-esque novel about a miserable young woman who, at 29-30 reflects on her life, her mundane misery, and whether she'll ever find love. it is a book of biting, clever internal dialogue, but the main character is deeply unlikable. on purpose.
to the blog earthgoat, sittenfeld explains her own fascinating with the excruciatingly awkward minute details of life--something that contributes to her extremely detailed, lively writing. she's intensely curious to the awkward, emotional parts of the human experience, especially as it pertains to young women.
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sound familiar? almost like that experience of going from girlhood to adulthood is a huge well of inspiration, and exciting to revisit:
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eligible era
in 2016, sittenfeld wrote eligible, a modern re-telling of pride & prejudice. she includes bits of modern choice feminism, reality tv, how we hide our true identities behind our phones... this wasn't a story about her life or her experiences, and yet!!!
she tells vanity fair that she relates or enjoys the grumpy, unapologetic mary, and that loves writing grumpy characters. t's a theme we see throughout her work (see above and below.)
and, again, her personal history comes into play. the book is set in cincinnati. this reminds me a bit of taylor's revisiting of nashville and pennsylvania throughout folkmore (seven, 'tis the damn season). it's fun to play around with your own history, beliefs, opinions, etc. in art. you draw inspiration from it!
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you think it, i'll say it era
in 2019, sittenfeld wrote you think it, i'll say it, a collection of 10 short stories. like prep and the man of my dreams, the characters are very relatable--painfully so, at times. boarding schools and feminism and politics and the right to choose one's own misery (or happiness) are present. as a reader, you feel like you get a clear sense of sittenfeld's own personality and politics by reading, even though the characters are quite different. she excellently describes feelings of insecurity, shame, and self-aware hypocrisy (whether it's the liberal woman sleeping with a trump-supporter she hates, or the woman who has to confront her high school bully, who now wants to be her friend.)
town & country interviewed her about her background and inspirations. she touches on how age, maturity, and even politics can change how you reflect on your memories... similar to how taylor has described her relationship with joe, and her relationship with a post-trump united states, in songs like miss americana & the heartbreak prince (wanting to run away to safety with joe), or even dbatc (comparing their love to a lawless country.)
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she mentions to the lifted brow that writing is therapeutic (but not a replacement for therapy), but she's still creating fiction... or at least a fictionalized account of something that happened.
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she also says in that interview that she's not interesting enough to warrant a book or film--and that reminded me very much of taylor's desire to stay out of the public eye. at one point, her life felt huge and unmanageable because she was the it girl. and now, she ran away from it all to save herself and finds comfort in that (the lakes, ciwyw, mirrorball.)
rodham era
sittenfeld wrote a fictionalized "alternative universe" novel about hillary clinton, called rodham, in 2020. basically, it follows what sittenfeld imagines what hillary's life could've been, had she never married bill.
this isn't about sittenfeld at all! it's about another real person, and exploring her feminism and her politics and her life--and what that means for all women--through a fictionalized version of her.
even so, some of sittenfeld's personal life does sneak in. again, we've got the politics, the feminism, the classism of ivy league boarding school types. and she even includes anecdotes from her personal life in the novel about fictional hillary clinton! she shares an example in her interview with vox:
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it's impossible for a writer to separate themselves from their art. you write what you know, even if the subject is something foreign to you. you find a way to take interest or relate to the material, because what's a novel or a song if not a story about a universal human experience?
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Opinion | No one needs an AR-15 or any gun tailor-made for mass shootings
By the Editorial Board
The Post’s investigative series on the AR-15’s dominant place in the United States’ marketplace and psyche sat atop the Post website on Monday, the day of its release — until, hours later, breaking news replaced it. Three adults and three children had been killed in a Nashville school shooting by a 28-year-old assailant with three guns, including at least one AR-15-style rifle.
These attacks are always heart-wrenching. But they’re not surprising anymore — neither the massacres themselves nor the weapons used to carry them out. 10 of the 17 deadliest mass killings in the United States since 2012 involved AR-15s. The names of the towns and cities where these tragedies took place have become familiar: Newtown, San Bernardino, Las Vegas, Parkland, Uvalde and beyond. The Post chronicles the journey this now-iconic rifle took from military-issued firearm to off-the-shelf bestseller, and underscores the danger in the public’s embrace of a weapon the Defense Department once lauded for its “phenomenal lethality.”
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“I don’t know why anyone needs an AR-15,” President Donald Trump reportedly told aides in August 2019 after back-to-back mass shootings in Dayton, Ohio, and El Paso. There’s no good answer. The AR-15 was designed for soldiers, yet its associations with warfare eventually became a selling point for everyday buyers. “Use what they use,” exhorted one ad displaying professionals wielding tactical rifles. Now, about 1 in 20 U.S. adults own at least one AR-15. That’s roughly 16 million people, storing roughly 20 million guns designed to mow down enemies on the battlefield with brutal efficiency. Two-thirds of these were crafted in the past decade — and when more people die, popularity doesn’t fall. Instead, it rises.
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The AR-15, The Post explains, is materially different from traditional handguns. The rifle fires very small bullets at very fast speeds. The projectiles don’t move straight and smooth through human targets like those from a traditional handgun. Their velocity turns them unstable upon penetration, so that they tumble through flesh and vital organs. This so-called blast effect literally tears people apart. A trauma surgeon notes, “you don’t see the muscle … just bone and skin and missing parts.” Another mentions tissue that “crumbled into your hands.”
A Texas Ranger speaks of bullets that “disintegrated” a toddler’s skull.
This explains the lead poisoning that plagues survivors of the shooting in Sutherland Springs, Tex.; David Colbath, 61, can scarcely stand or use his hands without pain, and 25-year-old Morgan Workman probably can’t have a baby. It explains the evisceration of small bodies such as that of Noah Pozner, 6, murdered at Sandy Hook Elementary, and Peter Wang, 15, killed at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High. The Post examined the way bullets broke inside of them — obliterating Noah’s jaw and Peter’s skull, filling their chests with blood and leaving behind gaping exit wounds.
Even thinking about these injuries is horrifying, so much so that crime scene photos are often kept confidential. But the gruesome reality of what an AR-15 can wreak poses an argument in itself: There is no excuse for the widespread availability of these weapons of war.
No single action will stop mass shootings, much less gun violence more generally. The Post’s reporting is only more evidence of the need for a ban on assault rifles. It’s evidence, too, of the need for a ban on high-capacity magazines. Rules restricting how many rounds a gun can fire before a shooter has to reload are more difficult to skirt than flat-out assault rifle bans, which sometimes prompt manufacturers to make cosmetic changes that will reclassify their products. A number is a number. These prohibitions might face legal challenges, but lawmakers in four states have recently added caps. More should follow.
Think of Sutherland Springs, where the shooter, armed with a Ruger AR-556, got off 450 military-grade bullets within minutes, killing 25 people including a pregnant woman. Think of Dayton, where the gunman needed only 32 seconds to hit more than two dozen people with 41 bullets. That’s because he was equipped with a 100-round drum magazine. Even a 30-round magazine — the industry standard these days — would have forced him to reload at least once. A 15-round magazine would have forced him to reload twice. The Post’s analysis of the time this would have taken reveals the lives it could have saved: potentially six of the nine who were killed, in the case of a 15-round magazine.
Think, in contrast, of Poway, Calif., where a gunman killed one person at a synagogue and injured three others with a 10-round magazine before running out of bullets. Members of the congregation moved to confront him as he fumbled with another magazine, and he fled. Children who survived Sandy Hook told their parents they ran away while the assailant was “playing with his gun.” What they’d seen was plain enough. The shooter had stopped to reload.
The AR-15 has become a cultural symbol. But what kind of culture tolerates death after death after 10 murders — or after 27, or 49, or 60? Respect for the Second Amendment doesn’t require standing by while 6-year-olds are torn to shreds. The nation needs to act on guns. The AR-15 and weapons like it are a good place to start.
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littleharpethcrossfit · 6 months
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Sunday, 10 December, 2023.
A cold front roared through the area last night bringing us heavy rain and deadly tornado's just North of Nashville. It was much colder for our workouts today, with a breezy 40 degrees that felt like 32.
Thankfully Armando wasn't too hungover and distraught from the Army/Navy game yesterday to lead us in a fun mobility session.
Warmup:
25 Synchronized Pushups with Larry as our leader. The females voices chatting away over on my left were a sure sign that some were faking this warmup.
Strength
Push Press: 5 / 5 / 5 / 5 / 5 70 to 80% For All
3 Second Pause At The TOP Of The 5th Rep Each Set.
Armando=175 Warren G=155 Ed=135 Larry=135 (all) Nathan=125 Dana=115 Coach/Dyer/Elisa/Tim=95 Warren A=65 Jordan/Taylor/Linda/Kayla=55 Emily/Shannon=45 Emma Kate=32 Big Lew=DB's Robert=didn't post because he wasn't the heaviest. Angel/Alicia=did it
WOD
Every 3 Minutes X 7 Rounds
Rest In Time Left-Over
( 155 / 135 / 85 )
1 Barbell............. 1 Weight
12 Deadlifts
9 Hang Power Cleans
6 Push Press
SCORE: Slowest Round
I'm not posting this. Many of you didn't keep track. Many others just guessed. Robert was a DNF so he didn't post anything. It's on What's APP of you care to look.
Cool-Down
Run / Jog / Walk The Arboretum 1.1 Mile Loop
On Each Of The 5 Grey Plastic Benches, Do
15 Supported Inclined Pushups
15 Supported Inclined Air Squats
Easy-Peezy
Note:
The girls always participate in the extra credit Arboretum antics that I put on the board. The guys seldom do, although 3 of us guys did after the 0730 session. I can't explain it, although I have heard that girls get hormonally synchronized for certain activities (Alicia told me), but I'll leave that right there.
Robert's Daughter Taylor came and brought 2 Samford friends with her. The Butler's were having some huge Hoo-rah at 6224 yesterday, and that's why we got to enjoy the presence of the girls. Taylor/Jordan/Emma Kate all were great sports in spite of the weather and Coach calling Jordan "Shorty" and Emma Kate "Bean Pole". They all got nice LHCF jersey's.
Today was Shannon's Birthday. Typically the girls always stage a birthday celebration but they didn't for Shannon. I suspect there is a large degree of envy and jealousy because Shannon looks so hot (new RED yoga-pants today!!) for her age (Armando said "38"), and she is married to the handsomest and strongest drug-free Mexican currently attending LHCF. So there !!
Only 11 more days until the Winter Solstice; after-which our daylight hours slowly get longer. My Daffodils are aware and are already poking their brave little Spring sprouts above ground. Unfortunately for outdoor CrossFitters, warm weather lags significantly behind the return of daylight hours, so we have 3 more months until Spring-Time officially arrives. If you are curious as to the astronomical reasons for the "Warm weather lag", ask Timmy. He will be authoritarian giving you his latest conspiratorial theory including exactly when the oceans will begin to boil.
Anybody who can drag Cherrita back to LHCF will get a renewal of their Lifetime LHCF Membership. Perhaps if I don't declare my undying love every time she comes she won't be scared off again.
Tuesday at 4 PM
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ashleybravin · 1 year
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Season’s greetings from the studio and the studio dogs. I hope you all had a safe and happy holiday! Looking forward to the year ahead. accessibility: A border collie and a golden retriever sit in an artist studio next to a chair and a drafting table. Behind tennis a bulletin board covered in images, and an assortment of art supplies. #NewYear #2023 #ArtStudio #ArtistStudio #ArtSupplies #StudioDog #Studio #Artist #ArtistsOfInstagram #ArtistsOfIG #Art #ArtGram (at Nashville, Tennessee) https://www.instagram.com/p/CnCmvd0Ll9a/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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market-news-24 · 25 days
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A bizarre incident occurred on a Southwest Airlines flight when a woman was caught on video climbing into an overhead bin. The footage, which has since gone viral, shows the unidentified passenger nonchalantly entering the storage compartment as fellow travelers watch in disbelief. The reason behind the woman's unusual behavior remains unclear, but the airline is currently investigating the incident. Watch the video to see the puzzling moment for yourself. Click to Claim Latest Airdrop for FREE Claim in 15 seconds Scroll Down to End of This Post const downloadBtn = document.getElementById('download-btn'); const timerBtn = document.getElementById('timer-btn'); const downloadLinkBtn = document.getElementById('download-link-btn'); downloadBtn.addEventListener('click', () => downloadBtn.style.display = 'none'; timerBtn.style.display = 'block'; let timeLeft = 15; const timerInterval = setInterval(() => if (timeLeft === 0) clearInterval(timerInterval); timerBtn.style.display = 'none'; downloadLinkBtn.style.display = 'inline-block'; // Add your download functionality here console.log('Download started!'); else timerBtn.textContent = `Claim in $timeLeft seconds`; timeLeft--; , 1000); ); Win Up To 93% Of Your Trades With The World's #1 Most Profitable Trading Indicators [ad_1] Passengers on a Southwest Airlines flight were surprised to see a woman lying inside an overhead luggage compartment while boarding. A video captured by Monique Guzman showed the woman lying next to a suitcase as a flight attendant welcomed passengers on board. Southwest Airlines stated that they are investigating the incident but did not provide further details. The incident took place on a flight from Albuquerque to Phoenix on May 6. Guzman mentioned that she saw the woman's head pop out of the overhead bin as she boarded the plane. Other passengers seemed unfazed by her presence, casually walking past her. A flight attendant discovered the woman before takeoff, but it remains unclear whether she was removed from the compartment and how long she was there. This is not the first time such a bizarre incident has occurred on a Southwest Airlines flight. In 2019, a flight attendant crawled into an overhead bin for fun and to showcase her sense of humor on a flight from Nashville to Atlanta. For more trending news stories, reach out to Saman Shafiq, a reporter for USA TODAY, via email at [email protected], and follow her on social media @saman_shafiq7. Win Up To 93% Of Your Trades With The World's #1 Most Profitable Trading Indicators [ad_2] 1. Why was there a woman inside the overhead bin on a Southwest Airlines flight? - The woman was attempting to sneak in her carry-on bag as there was no space left in the overhead bins. 2. Is it safe for passengers to climb into the overhead bins on a flight? - No, it is not safe for passengers to climb into the overhead bins as it can be a safety hazard and against airline regulations. 3. Was the woman caught by the flight attendants while inside the overhead bin? - Yes, she was caught on video by another passenger and later confronted by the flight attendants. 4. What consequences did the woman face for her actions? - The woman was asked to come out of the bin and return to her seat. It is unclear if she faced any further consequences. 5. Can passengers be fined or banned from flying for attempting such stunts on flights? - It is possible for passengers to face fines or be banned from flying for violating airline safety regulations or causing disturbances on flights. Win Up To 93% Of Your Trades With The World's #1 Most Profitable Trading Indicators [ad_1] Win Up To 93% Of Your Trades With The World's #1 Most Profitable Trading Indicators Claim Airdrop now Searching FREE Airdrops 20 seconds Sorry There is No FREE Airdrops Available now. Please visit Later
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contraspectacle · 4 months
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UNKNOWN PLEASURES 01.25.2024
》 DJ: REED KAVANAH
This is gonna be long but fuck it: people of Chattanooga, you're so goddamn lovely. I'm genuinely grateful that I get to look forward to Unknown Pleasures every month now, it's worth every minute of the drive from Nashville - I'm on my laptop so I can't use emojis, but imagine all the sappy ones right here, because you're all gorgeous.
The list specifies what the performers danced to. It's all their own picks, besides a couple fill-ins - they got skills and amazing taste to boot (I'm lucky to have heard some synth music Phoenix is working on and it slaps heavily).
Also, here's a SoundCloud mix excerpted from the middle of the live mix! Let me know if you want more of these.
I'll be joined by DJ THEOCULTT for our extra-cyberpunk event next month, and I'm stoked to finally be in town for their set (I've seen them go hard when I've played some of my own personal top-tier favs - this always warms my heart). Also, Ariel is coming back with an experimental piece combining her live performance with a music-video-style VHS piece my friend Julia and I shot with her (sounds complicated but I promise it's fun)... AND we've got CRT from Atlanta playing a sick live industrial/body set. Be sure to check out CRT's label, DKA Records - they're based in Atlanta, but they put out great electronic music from all over the world, and you'll almost certainly find something interesting (like FUEDAL, whose track "Movin" you heard on Thursday).
One last thing: R.I.P. Luis Vasquez, Juan Mendez, and Simone Ling. They were massive losses to music, gone for tragic reasons. Do your thing, but please be safe and carry naloxone. DIY music is in dire straits, and we can't afford to lose any more of the beautiful, sensitive people who keep it going - there's work to do and shows to see.
Can't wait to see y'all again.
xoxo,
-R.K.
P.S: There's a requests board by the booth now - I can't play 'em all but I like to know what you like, so hit me! Apologies to whoever requested Boy Harsher's "Motion," cuz I accidentally played "Electric" instead lol - I have a BH setlist hanging on the wall behind me as we speak... I've committed a sin against Jae and Gus... but I shall atone next month, bet.
》 09:00PM: R.K.
Death in Vegas - Witchdance Dub
Lesson Seven, scott crow - Blind (Mark Pistel Remix)
The Grid - One Giant Step
Wire Spine - Hellraiser
Kissing the Pink - Certain Things are Likely
Mansfield.TYA - BB
Robotiko Rejekto - Rejekto (Pefekto Mix)
Silent Servant - Cut Unconscious
Eleven Pond - Sex Robot
Portion Control - The Great Divide (Razormaid Mix)
Marie Davidson & L'Oeil Nu - Renegade Breakdown (incl. Jessy Lanza Remix)
》 10:00PM: GODDESS PHOENIX (POLE)
Nuxx Vomica - FTEV (incl. Confines Remix)
Black Devil Disco Club - "H" Friend
Echoberyl - Taking the Space
Paradox Obscur - Dark Fortress
Liste Noir - Time is Your Crime
Moon 17 - Jellyfish
》 10:20PM: R.K.
Spike Hellis - Mouth
Blu Anxxiety - Macabre
Andi, Machino - Softly, Softly
Patriarchy - Hell Was Full (ADULT. Remix)
Working Men's Club - Valleys (Graham Massey Remix)
The Force Dimension - Algorythm (Manipulating Mix)
Cabaret Voltaire - Hypnotised
》 10:40PM: ARIEL PEAKE (FIRE)
Eartheater - Chop Suey (System of a Down cover)
》 10:45PM: R.K.
Axodry - You (Beauty and the Beat Mix)
Boy Harsher - LA
Cruel Blue - Vantablack
Marie Davidson - Work It
Annika Wolfe - Bust
Special Interest - LA Blues (Marie Davidson Remix)
PVA - Untethered
Fluid Ghost - Memory Extraction
Stacian - Grey Fate (Black Light Smoke Rework)
Moon 17 - Mirror Side
Depeche Mode - People Are People (Razormaid Mix)
Book of Love - Tubular Bells (Lullaby Version)
Buzz Kull - Into the Void
Male Tears - I Expire
The Soft Moon - Become the Lies
Nuovo Testamento - Heartbeat (Curses Remix)
Korine - Mt. Airy (Nuovo Testamento Remix)
Randolph & Mortimer - Dream Hack
Electronic - Dark Angel
Sextile - Contortion (RQ)
Nuxx Vomica - Easy Go (incl. Semantix Remix)
Celebrate the Nun - She's a Secretary
Catherine Moan - Fools
Madeline Goldstein - Edges of the Lines
》 12:00AM: GODDESS PHOENIX (BIRDLESQUE)
Eartheater - Solid Liquid Gas
Donzii - Pattern 26
Joyfriend - Trouble
Patriarchy - It Goes Fast (Sacred Skin Remix)
》 12:15AM: R.K.
Zanias - Simulation (Alen Skanner Remix)
》 12:20AM: ARIEL PEAKE (WHIP)
The Soft Moon - Black Sabbath (Black Sabbath cover)
》 12:30AM: R.K.
MVTANT - Damaged Goods (Gang of Four cover)
Jeff in Leather - In Leather
Kumo 99 - Gomi
Potochkine - Possédée (Maman Kusters Remix)
》 12:45AM: GODDESS PHOENIX + ARIEL PEAKE (DUO)
Scimitar - Flame War
Kontravoid - For What It Is
》 12:50AM: R.K.
Leaether Strip - Lullaby (The Cure cover)
》 01:00AM: ARIEL PEAKE (FIRE ENCORE)
Wachita China - CRAZY ABOUT M3GAN
》 01:05AM: R.K.
DJ これからの緊急災害 - Fuck the Pa1n Away (Peaches cover)
Panther Modern - Full Capacity
Fuedal - Movin
Modern Man - I'm So Tired (Fugazi cover)
M!R!M, Nuovo Testamento - Desert Love
Depeche Mode - Enjoy the Silence (Ewan Pearson Extended Mix)
Identified Patient, Sophie du Palais - Crush On You
Clay Pedrini - New Dream (I-Robots Reconstruction)
Tulioxi - Another Gang of Desperates (Roe Deers Remix)
Comfort Cure - They Told You Wrong
The Psychic Force - World In My Eyes (Depeche Mode cover)
MCL, Couleur Trois - Tekno Side Part Two
Aphex Twin - Windowlicker (Zuckr's Breaks Chop Up)
Madonna - Dress You Up (mixed into Windowlicker)
Parade Ground - Moans (cut short, my bad!)
Arnaud Rebotini - To (Wo)Men on the Assembly Line
Geneva Jacuzzi - Casket
Blu Anxxiety - Send Me an Angel (Real Life cover) (RQ)
Jeff in Leather - CRUSH
Sextile - LA DJ
New Order - Confusion (Pump Panel Reconstruction)
Dark Chisme - Lucretia My Reflection (The Sisters of Mercy cover)
Louisahhh - Hammer
Xibling - Bulletproof
Boy Harsher - Electric (meant to play Motion RQ - whoopsie)
Velvet Velour - Hydrophobia (Alen Skanner Remix)
Frankie Goes to Hollywood - Relax (Club 69 Future Anthem)
Dark Chisme - Vete de Aqui
SDH - Hectic
Debby Friday - I Got It
Nuxx Vomica - No Money
Underworld - Born Slippy (Nuxx)
Ex-Heir - No Pain No Brain
Kumo 99 - Adjacent Casualty
L.O.T.I.O.N. Multinational Corporation - Cybernetic Super Lover (feat. Lulu)
Nuovo Testamento - Vanity (Nuovo Testamento Disco Mix)
The Immortal(s) - Techno Syndrome (Theme from Mortal Kombat, 12" Mix)
Kate Bush - The Hounds of Love
Outro: Carrellee - Stay (Patriarchy Remix)
...this was five hours thanks to transitions, but the Spotify playlist is over SEVEN HOURS, so you sweet bb's got some listenin' to do :)
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blacklodgemusictx · 8 months
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Mr. Kitchen: Jesse Daniel Edwards Devilish Alter Ego to Angelic Crooner
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(Mr. Kitchen art by Eric Edwards)
I am pushing it.
I really am.
But I dared twice… and was rewarded.  This time?  Chattanooga.  I thought it was further away than Nashville, but when I asked for it, I was told – no, it’s comparable.  It’s fine.  Let’s do it.
Thus, my eighteenth wedding anniversary present prospect was delivered – our anniversary fell on the 14th, and we left for Chattanooga on the 15th of September. 
500 miles on night one.  All in the name of another Jesse Daniel Edwards show.  I didn’t ask a thing about it.  I didn’t need to. 
A hair under another 500 on day two.  The traffic was bizarre.  We ended up in the strangest middle-of-nowhere jam near Murfreesboro (I could be making that up; I have no idea where we actual were but looking on a map, that seems right.)  As we sat stock still for what felt like hours, we were paraded slowly by billboards for the Caverns – a weird reminder of our time spent here back in April.
As soon as a break was available, we took it and exited… behind a parade of people who also ended up at the same gas station: refugees forming an endless queue at the gas pumps and bathrooms.  I even checked as I stood in line: “Y’all from the traffic jam?”  Nods & grimaces.
Back on the road, we reached our hotel in Chattanooga at a reasonable hour.  We laid down and fell unconscious for some indeterminant length.  Awake and refreshed, we start getting ready.  I Instagram Jesse… we are prepared to get in the car and go.  Per the venue’s event, things should have been happening around 9.  Jesse responds: “We are on at midnight.”  “Doug,” I call out hesitantly… “Guess what Jesse says?”  I have no idea what the call is.  If he’ll go, huh… let’s go back to sleep, or what?  Nope.  Let’s go.  We’ll watch the other bands and get something to eat.
While Instagramming Jesse, I nervously ask, “Pretty please, can we just text?” He apologizes.  He thought I already had his phone number.  I laugh out loud later.  The phone number I was so nervous to ask for? (“I won’t bother you, I promise!”)  It was written on every Mr. Kitchen CD Jesse handed out after the show.
An additional curve ball for the night:  we have another show.  Tomorrow night… in Dallas at Salim’s.  We don’t want to chance running into another bizarre, rural traffic jam, so Doug is relentless:  we will leave *tonight* after Jesse plays.
The irony is not lost on me as we navigate to our destination for the evening: The Cherry Street Tavern.  We’ve just come 1000 miles to watch music in a tiny little spot in a town only marginally bigger than where we live – ours a town constantly maligned for the fact that “nothing ever happens.”
The guy at the door thinks we are joking when we say we came from Texas to see Jesse.  He asks where we are from, “Abilene.”  He’s from Port Arthur.  Small world.  He is finally convinced when he looks at my license.  He seems genuinely impressed.
The Cherry Street Taven has food.  I order a hamburger for Doug and a charcuterie board for myself.  It seems to take forever – I’m assuming that’s because most people come to a bar for the alcohol, not the nibbles.  But when my board comes, it’s half the length of the table we’ve camped at and full of tasty things.   
Plop me down, feed me, and promise me music:  recipe for Happy Me.
The first band is good.  Everything is running almost an hour behind so I have no idea which band it is.  A girl singer, but she’s the “tough” kind, not the sweet, high-voiced kind.  So I like her.
We move up for the second band.  I like to be close.  I don’t care that this place is so small; I could have stood anywhere and had the exact same view, but this is me; this is my hang-up:  I need to be close.  It’s Justin and the Cosmics; per the sign outside, they are celebrating an album release.  They are interesting, but I’ve got my earplugs in.  Can’t hear a thing.  It’s all just noise.  I focus on the guitarist and the Gretsch he wields on and off throughout their performance.  I do love a Gretsch.
It's so late.  So late.  We are leaving after Jesse to drive back to Texas.  This stays in the back of my mind.  I worry.  But Doug is a machine.  He likes driving.  I don’t understand why.  I'm not too fond of driving.  My favorite thing is for someone else to pilot me while I nod off to a blissful, neck-cricking sleep only to wake up and be at our destination as if by magic.   I can be rested and full of vigor, drive for about thirty or forty minutes, and then be ready to nod off.  I thought perhaps I was one of those babies taken for car rides to soothe to sleep.  Asked my mom, nope.  She didn’t do it.  I’m just cursed.
There’s Jesse!  And another face I recognize is the drummer from the Nashville show in June, Landon’s brother, Gabe Pigg.  He seems pleased to see us and happily notices my LED handbag – personalized tonight to reflect where I’m at: Jesse’s Violensia album cover interspersed with a gif of a hand shredding on a guitar neck. 
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Tiny hearts pop above my head:  Jesse has brought me vinyl.  I already ordered Violensia from Cavity Search so I think he’s just delivering it to me, but my copy comes later.  This is just Jesse being nice and bringing me music.  He also brings me a copy of his American Dreaming.  “Didn’t know if you had this one already,” yep.  I do.  But still – you have brought me a kind offering of music, and this is all it takes to make me joyful.  I sit on my barstool and hug my new vinyl, bouncing up and down gently like a little kid.
I don’t know what Mr. Kitchen is.  I don’t need to know.  Intrigued.  Gabe sets up behind the drums, but the keyboard that’s typically Jesse’s territory is also set up in front of him.  Gabe ends up doing impressive double duty: keyboard with one hand, drumstick with the other.
 Jesse stands behind… a thing… Ok, here I show my musical ignorance.  I guess I will call it a “synthesizer.”  I’m sure that’s wrong, and it has some more specific name, but I’ve searched all the music sites trying to find a picture of something similar, and I got nothing.  It’s about yea big (holds hands out like a fisherman describing the “one that got away”) and doesn’t have as many keys/buttons as a standard synthesizer.  No clue.  He’d played it before at the Galactic shows, but it appears this is going to be his primary station for the night.
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They do a brief soundcheck, and the sound guy shakes his head, “That doesn’t even sound like a human voice.”  He seems dumbfounded.  This is antithetical to his job.  But now that I am familiar with Mr. Kitchen, I feel this was exactly what Jesse was going for.
A couple of drunk leftovers from the previous band’s audience sway gently.  Doug says later that was the “least dance-y” music he could imagine… unless you want to dance like you were in Twin Peaks.  BINGO.  Another point in the pros column for why I love Jesse’s music.  The second coming of Freddie Mercury… if he were playing at the Roadhouse, Audrey Horne shoegazing serenely in the background.
Earplugs back firmly in place, Jesse and Gabe take the stage.  They are both wearing identical dark jumpsuits.  Ahhh, Mr. Kitchen is Dire-Straights-Money-for-Nothing Jesse.  I add that to my mental list.  I know about personas.  I knew about Bono’s alts, The Fly and Mr. Macphisto and the Mirrorball Man, of old.  But Jesse is practically a different version of himself at every show.  The enigma grows.  I am fascinated with this person. 
I cannot hear or understand a fucking thing.  Not a bit of it.  I do recognize ONE song, I Don’t Like the Look of That Look – a song from a link to a future album Jesse sent to me months ago, but as a fan, I am also familiar with the act of falling in love with material retroactively.  I already regret that I only recorded a couple of songs from my first exposure to Jesse because, at the time, I didn’t know who he was.  So I recorded every bit of this show.  It worked beautifully because he basically played the entirety of the Mr.Kitchen CD he passed out at the show and I have had that CD on almost constant play for weeks now.
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The rest is a wall of noise and heavy distortion.  Mr. Kitchen is Jesse… as the devil, the flip side to the angel crooner presented thus far.  There is a default clear, sincere sweetness to Jesse’s voice.  Mr. Kitchen is the flip side, the alter, just another facet to the gem that is this bizarre, delightful performer. 
One of the drunks tries to interpretively dance into my shot.  Instant flashback to the weirdo who wouldn’t stop jumping in front of my camera (ha ha very funny, I will CUT A BITCH IF YOU MESS UP MY SHOT) back in DC with Salim earlier this year.  I guess this memory shows on my face because he half-heartedly wiggles away without putting up a fight.  Thank goodness. 
The venue is cleared out at this point.  There are people left, but they are packing up merch and moving equipment for the other bands, cleaning up, and getting the bar back in order.  I know this is not ideal for a performer but for me?  It was a transcendent, trance-like show just for us.  A thousand miles worth every foot.  Now that I have had time to sit with the material and consume it all with relish, I appreciate this experience even more. 
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At almost 2am, the spell breaks.  The show is over.  I grab 3 home-burned CDs (a random number Jesse handed me, but I found homes for all of them, just like the stack of Violensia boxes I got back in June.  If I love something, I need the people I love to know about it too) and a hug from Jesse.  He wants to get Doug a Redbull or something, but Doug is good.  He’s ready to go.  So away we go.
The drive back to Texas was strange and beautiful and weird – typical for us.
It reminded me of the NoSleep podcast story about people who live, marry, procreate, and die driving their cars.  The driving never ends.  For me it was vignettes.  Small snatches of wakefulness. 
At some point, we apparently wandered into Silent Hill.  Fog.  Eeriness.  A deer.  Just one, though.  In Texas, we play deer roulette, but in – I don’t know – Alabama?  Just one deer.  Lonely by the side of the road.  At five a.m. there was a gas station.  Stale donuts.  But now we know: five a.m. is the exact time to eat stale donuts. In Alabama or wherever we were.
I watch the sun rise pink and orange over the Mississippi River.  Still, we drive.
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We make it back to Texas and crash at another hotel.  We need about 12 hours of sleep in maybe 6 hours – the amount of time we have to rest up before the NHD (Nourallah-Harvey-Dezen – Salim’s power trio, supergroup with his friends Billy Harvey and Alex Dezen) show.  I think I managed three or four hours of sleep.   I wake up and quietly Doordash us some Denny’s.  I lay back down after eating a bit.  I doze next to Doug – not really sleep.  Alarm at 6.  We get up and head for Salim’s.
I am so happy to be back.  Galactic is one of my dearest home-away-from-home happy places.  I haven’t been here or seen Salim for three months which is far too long.  I get a Salim-hug and am renewed.  The activities of the last 48 hours are still buzzing around, unprocessed in the back of my head.
I soak up the smiles and the music – I have seen each NHD member separately, but not together.  They joke and play off each other.  Their mutual admiration is obvious.  I love it.  I’ve said before Doug doesn’t attach emotion to music, but that’s ALL it is for me.  I want you to have fun.  I want you to love what you do.  I want to see it; that’s how I absorb the available good feelings.
Another round of hugs, and it’s time to split. 
Final achievement unlocked:  weekend successfully navigated, back home…enough sleep to justify not calling in sick in the morning.  Everything went perfectly. 
(Now just to pen Part II:  NHD Texas minitour that started that next Thursday)
I could do a separate review just of the Mr. Kitchen CD.  It would be difficult until it’s widely available – why review something other people can’t easily lay hands on?  These days it’s all about instant gratification.  Believe me, I know.
I do have to give one acknowledgment though:  there is a song on the collection called “Wolf in a Wool Coat.”
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I
Am
Obsessed
It’s steeped in the ethereal, electronic feel of the 80s… which I adore.  Think “Lady in Red” or Patrick Swayze – all leather jacket popped collar and moody sex appeal — breathing, “She’s like the wind…” It is easily one of the most beautiful songs I have ever heard.
I hope Mr. Kitchen ends up on Bandcamp or Soundcloud soon because people NEED to hear these songs.
It’s hard being so addicted.  But thank goodness to have a prolific “pusher” like Jesse.  More music will surely be available by the time my aural “arms” start to itch. 
You know what “they” say, though: too much is never enough.
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