#saint george looking ass

[orfeoarte]

favorite outfit? I got you covered

[saintslewis]

𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

- drabble.

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x black! fem reader

summary: reader will never let the paddock forget who Lewis Hamilton is.

warnings: cussing.

saint’s team radio 🪩: this is just a lil something. I was pissed tf off yesterday because of some lewis “fans” and i will never miss an opportunity to let ppl know who my goat is 🫦. enjoy

ps, i’m not adding actual reporter’s names for this so i made up random names.

taglist: @mauvecherie-writes @perfecttrashface @non-stop-imagines @emjayewrites @purplelewlew @hopefulromantic1 @motheroffae @exotic-iris13 @httpsserene @queenshikongo3 @greedyjudge2 @cocobutterqwueen

-

The tag from your denim jacket had been irritating you since the second you put it on but you chose to forget about it, often adjusting it with your nails or a little shimmy of your shoulders.

Holding the mic from Sky Sports F1 wasn’t all too odd for you, the broadcast team only handing it to you when talking about Lewis and his achievements. Your support for the Stevenage driver was strong, often being as labelled as biased but you couldn’t care less. The support was mutual between the two of you, usually lingering on the line of friendship but doubt and time was always against you.

Your sunglasses sat on your braided head with a bored expression on your face, just wanting to get this segment over with so that you could go back to your individual blogging and interviews. Standing patiently in front of the cameras while other reporters ran around unorganised, you played with your beaded ‘44’ bracelet.

“My goodness, Y/n! I have no clue how you are so calm, this is always so hard!” One of them exclaimed, laughing in the process. “Not to mention the outfit! You look like you could go to a party!” Another laughed, her smile faltering when your eyes snapped to her, expression never changing.

After a while, the segment began and off the reporters went on a scripted tangent about other teams before getting to the main topic; Lewis. “Now, onto a different subject, Lewis Hamilton’s performance in that car has been nothing short of a…disaster if I could say.” Jimmy said, deciding to look at you as he spoke. Almost as if he was challenging you.

“For a specific race weekend or overall? His teammate, George is doing significantly better. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, it’s like he doesn’t know how to drive.” Jennifer spoke, poorly making an attempt of a joke.

“I’m not too sure why you’re speaking as if he is a rookie. You lot can see that Mercedes hasn’t been doing well as a collective yet you’re targeting one driver who has brought then 8 constructer titles rather than the other who has one win.” Lifting your mic, you spoke with a clear voice, never stuttering.

Frank shook his head and tried to chuckle. “Look Y/n. We understand he’s your boyfriend or whatever but we need to be factual here. What Ferrari has done is a mistake by signing him. I mean, there needs to be more space for others and he’s taking up space.”

“And Alonso’s dusty ass doesn’t need to leave? Using my support for Lewis to try and justify your dislike for him is unprofessional. I have no clue how you have the gumption to say all this.” You responded, still not moving from your spot.

The other 4 reporters stared at you in shock along with other people stopping in the paddock, surrounding the space just in front of the official f1 hospitality suite.

“There’s no need to use aggressive language, Y/n.” Jennifer lifted her hand to place on your shoulder but you moved away in time. “Aggressive for who?” You challenged, tilting your head.

It had gotten quite. “The viewers. It’s not a lie, Lewis is just not good anymore. He needs to make space.” One of them spoke up but you couldn’t be bothered to listen to anyone else other than Frank, your eyes trained on him.

“What? We need to speak with the producers, having an independent journalist was a mistake.” Frank smirked.

“You can take your opinion and shove it up your ass. Thanks for having me, Sky Sports F1.” You turned to the camera to blow a kiss then you gave the mic you were holding to whoever would catch it.

Walking away from the set, you knew what you did was undeniably unprofessional but those people had always had a vendetta against Lewis and any reporter/journalist who support him. Breathing out, you sashayed your way through the paddock with people staring as your braids glided in the slight breeze.

The buzz of your phone shook you out of your racing mind, a little gasp escaping your mouth as you read the notification from instagram.

lewishamilton no joke, that was the best thing i’ve ever seen. glad we have that interview together in 5 minutes :)

You first looked around the paddock after reading that message but you figured that he watched it live just like everyone else did. Your anger for that segment had clouded your thoughts so much, you forgot about the interview you were supposed to have with the champion.

Rushing to the large luxurious paddock club, you received all types of looks from those who either clearly watched the broadcast live or they’re looking at your outfit, although the latter was made up in your mind.

Luckily, he hadn’t arrived to the designated room you booked to have the interview with him but as soon as you got your phone out to record and your notes, the screams and excitement were heard from outside the door and a smile couldn’t help but sneak on your face.

You have only interviewed him three times in your entire career but every time you did so, he never wanted it to end, always trying to make it longer by asking his own questions to you or just sharing a laugh.

With security opening the door for him, he entered the room and spotted you with a smile on his face. He entered alone in the mercedes shirt already on. No words needed to spoken by either of you, Lewis opening his arms for a hug to greet you. Once in his embrace, you thought it’d be quick but to your surprise, it lasted a few moments longer.

“Hi Y/n.” Lewis spoke, a hand still on your shoulder. You took a quick breath and immediately relaxed on the spot. “Hey Lewis.”

“Your response to Sky was insane but I liked it.” He chuckled, sitting across from you with his legs open and a ring clad hand sat comfortably on his lap.

You didn’t want to show him how the sight affected you especially when your emotions are sky high so you remained calm on the outside. “It’s just…I’m pretty sure I lost my job just now because of how I reacted.” You sighed out, flicking a few braids back.

“Some of them had said worse things so you’re okay.” Lewis responded, his tone wasn’t all too sure but he just wanted to lift your mood. “Yeah but I’m black. They used micro aggressions too.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at everything once recalling back to that moment.

“I heard. I’ll have a word with Sky.” He reassured you. “Oooh okay, Sir.” You joked, masking how the reassurance made your stomach flutter. You’d like to think he was openly flirting with you but you quickly put that thought at the back of your mind.

“I just don’t want those people to forget who you are, you know? I’m sure you hear this all the time. You know what you’re doing and you’re the best at it. I wanna remind the people who the goat is.” You rambled a bit, noticing his smile growing as he listened to you.

“You’re too kind, really. I know what I am, it’s just a little tough right now.” He shrugged as he fully leaned back into his seat. “If you need me to fight anybody in your team, let me know.” You winked, flashing a comical smile that made Lewis laugh.

Giving you a once over, Lewis leaned forward and rested his tatted arms on his knees. “You look good today. You always do but today…phenomenal.” He spoke, his voice noticeably relaxed. “Don’t make me blush, Sir.” You smiled, failing terribly at hiding your feeling.

“That nickname, Y/n,” He chuckled. “Is that door locked?” He asked. All you had to do was nod at the man and Lewis smirked, licking his lips in the process.

“C’mere.”

saint’s notes 🪩: slightly rushed, george pissed me off, hope you enjoyed. bye. <3

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 16

Not the Love Actually India footage! https://archiveofourown.org/works/40600110/chapters/101720886 by @inspiteallthedanger is a favorite I should revisit after this painful day.

“Yes, what Were we doing?” Literally, why did you start this conversation, Paul? What did you think John and George were going to do? Just let you have your little casual chat about the footage? Come on, you know them better than that. “In your room?” “Yeah, right. I remember, yeah.” You set yourself up for this, babe. 

I would LOVE to know the real context for John’s mic-job. Because yes, that is real. He really did do that while staring like That at Paul. But it wasn’t after he said, “I don’t regret anything. Ever.” What was the real moment where John decided that was his move? And did Paul really just keep talking right over all of that? Beatles tumblr deserves access to all that footage just for all the obsessing we do. 

It is noteworthy, certainly, that we know for a fact that a good chunk of John’s India footage is just Paul, but in how much of that footage, I wonder, is Paul also focused on John?

We all know Paul approves, but why did we have to use valuable time to show monkey sex? I did not need to see that. 

“I have all the tapes, too.” Those laughs. You guys aren’t as sneaky as you think you are. Also, @ Lennon estate you won't release the tapes. Chickens.

George is just SO sick of their shit. “Because that was the purpose of going there was to try and find who yourself is.” AKA ‘I took your dumb asses on this beautiful spiritual retreat and you had to make it about your stupid psychosexual obsession just like you do with everything else.’ “And if you were really yourself, you wouldn’t be any of who we are now.” AKA ‘if you two would stop fucking hiding, we – me and Ringo too, you’ve dragged us down with you – wouldn’t be in this hellish mess.’ And here’s the thing. He’s pissed off. And rightly so. But he’s still going along with their veils and secrecy. A callback to his strumming over Paul ranting at him. He’ll still protect them even when he fundamentally disagrees. George is such a beautiful person and so underrated by people like me.

 Paul’s appreciative little look as John finally ends the difficult conversation. 

"Bye, Bye Love” is DEFINITELY *meaningful*

John calling Two of Us “Four of Us” is so sweet. Like saying to George and Ringo, “You are important too. Just because we don’t have weird thoughts about your physical adjacency to Elvis Presley, doesn't mean we don’t love you.” 

I think John’s willingness to be taught is also an underrated leadership quality of his. All the old men obsessed with Leader Lennon won’t acknowledge it, but that’s what it is. It’s humility and a recognition of other’s strength and it’s leadership.

Literally everyone else: Just don’t look and it’ll go away. John: what? Don’t look at Paul? I don’t know how to do that.

George and Ringo honestly had the patience of saints to just sit there and play through Two of Us eight million times so John and Paul could do their little accents and silly voices.

And then John can also do the traditional leadership, too. “Start again, ey. Shh, don’t talk when he’s playing there, gang.” And really, he’s the best of the four for that job by far.But it’s far from acerbic or cutting. Get Back John is certainly almost undiluted Lovely John. 

Quick reminder to anyone who may have forgotten: those boots George is wearing are literally Paul’s hand-me-downs. Earlier on the nagra reels, George was describing a kind of boots he’d like a pair of and Paul was like “I’ve got some you could have.”  Permanent baby brother status. 

“That’s a good idea, John.” “Yeah, well I’m full of ideas like that, I’m famous for ‘em. Literary Beatle, you know.” Puhlease. I know fics with more realistic dialogue.

“The things that’ve worked out best for us haven’t really been planned any more than this has, it’s just. You know, you just go into something and it just does it itself.” Yeah, George. Because of Brian. 

Paul really wants to do a big Thing at the end, because he loves performing, yeah. But what’s this about John and Yoko’s black bag? Does he think that performing together will remind John that being a Beatle with Paul is what he loves? Or does he just want closure before everything falls apart?

He really does hate to see him upset, doesn’t he. Like, I think he does a lot of things purposely to get a reaction out of Paul. And sometimes he needs to see him hurt to know he even cares. But from the way he’s watching Paul chewing his nails and rocking, you’d think Paul’s worries affected John physically. And then he breaks into “I Lost My Little Girl” almost as a sort of knee-jerk comfort instinct.  

These two shots are comedic gold.

My cabaret boys again. Heck, maybe I’ll write it just for myself. Honestly though I love that the two Beatles who loved performing and who would’ve been performers in any life (would’ve been performing circus elephants if they’d been reincarnated as animals) got to continue doing it into their eighties. One of the few happinesses in the end of the Beatles.

Get Back really is such a great character study, though. George hands John a drink. John takes it without looking at George, let alone the drink, and gulps. George hands Paul a drink. Paul smiles at him, then proceeds to sniff it and swirl it and inspect it like it might be poison before he gives it a taste. 

John chewing the mic. I hope you didn’t do That to Paul’s dick in India. What if that’s all that happened?

Bitching and gossiping: top requirements in the job description for John Lennon’s Codependent Special Person.

In these last few minutes of the day, I’m relating more and more to George. I’m sick of John and Paul and all their drama and stupidity. John suggests they write another verse of Let it Be together, and Paul looks frankly horrified at the idea.

So John lays his head in Yoko’s lap, reminding me painfully of that “ . . . except you can go to bed with it and it can pet your head without . . .” quote.

And then a few minutes later, Paul’s spiraling again and asks to go home to which John responds with a tease. “I’m just tryna get the group working, you know,” and “You’re gonna have to be strict, Paul.” And it’s just dizzying and frustrating at this point. Where are they possibly going to go at this rate?

[horizon-verizon]

Alicent is the quintessential example of what not to do as a parent. In the book, it’s pretty damned clear that she sees her children as pawns and that she certainly doesn’t think that Aegon would make an effective ruler, just that she would make use of him to gain power through him.

Oh, sure, she gives the lip-service that she fears for her children’s lives along with her own and yada yada yada…. but at the end of the day, Rhaenyra and Daemon only went tribal on their asses after Aemond murdered Lucerys, unprovoked, during a diplomatic mission. They were more than happy to leave them be and use soft power to defend Rhaenyra’s birthright. Alicent has no one but herself and her own side to blame for the gloves coming off after Lucerys’ murder.

As it is, if you were to compare Rhaenyra to someone else who almost had his own birthright/power taken from him by grasping social climbers (even if not exactly the same situation), may I present Tywin Lannister and how he dealt with the Reynes and Tarbecks after his weak-willed and people pleaser father (similar to Viserys) let them have the run of the roost. Spoiler: those houses no longer exist.

In short: Rhaenyra was a saint in how she dealt with Alicent, given that Tywin would’ve killed every last Hightower down to the last child.

Sure, maybe you can say that Alicent did believe that Rhaenyra would do it because that’s what she would’ve done in her shoes or she knew that most of her colleagues would’ve happily defenestrated her long ago, but that says more about her than about Rhaenyra. As it is, I’m not so charitable and I’m more keen interpret it more as a propaganda rat-fucking campaign, since for all that they painted Daemon as the devil and Rhaenyra as “Maegor with teats,” they certainly dealt with the Hightowers with kid-gloves prior to Lucerys’ murder.

Okay, so in bk!Alicent's defense, though it is not as severe and obvious as with Rhaenyra, Alicent does get written with a short hand: her body used to compare against Rhaenyra; how she's barely mentioned after the Dance apart from her going a little crazy (George, like w/Rhaenyra, could have given us maids/lady-in-waiting/direct journals that show observations of Alicent at this time as well as her feelings abt things before she ever even married Viserys); etc. And if you grow up thinking and seeing women who become lady/Queen consorts, birthing males, and looking forward to the "reward" of power through that male...you see why Alicent's bothered. Many of us would be bothered at the very least even if we disliked and were a little honest with ourselves abt how non eof it is fair bc it was never meant be "fair" that you can only get power by being heirs or being a part of the family itself.

Doesn't mean that she didn't genuinely LOVE all her kids; it's a twisted sort of thing and becomes more so the deeper they all got into the war. We see her wail at Aegon's death. How she curses Rhaenyra for Helaena even though that's not her fault. Alicent's problem is that she decided to go after a child that would grow up to possibly be an issue, thinking that she is the exception, and refusing--esp by the end with how she died--to accept her own culpability in her kids' death. All of which comes from pride rather than a lack of love.

Once again, I am not saying she was "correct" or in the right, bc she was not. Morally nor politically. But the feeling of having been "duped" is both valid, understandable, and likely real for her. For nothing else, it's admirable that she wasn't a shrinking violet and saw through her desires or took things into her own hands when she saw it needed to be for her own ambitions. I don't like her and I wouldn't if I were in this world and had to be around her (even if I had to grow up in such an environment I doubt I'd be so religious and sincerely traditional, I never believed in God and would want to read anything and thus comes across knowledge of there being different religions across the world...so...) and I like to think that I'd also judge her heavy for how she moves with her kids and pitting them against Rhaenyra, but I also think that I would see her thoughts even more bc that would be my reality as well.

Rhaenyra was a saint in how she dealt with Alicent, given that Tywin would’ve killed every last Hightower down to the last child.

I mean, Tywin wasn't the brother of the Reynes and Tarbecks and didn't face a possible accusation of being a kinslayer. I see your point, but I think this particular thing doesn't quite have the same stakes as for the circumstances pre-Dance. Rhaenyra being a woman, even if she weren't their sister, would still face a lot more censure if she pulled a Tywin Rains of Castamere bc she'd be ridiculed for doing what men are licensed to in any sort of war effort even as Gyldayn and Corlys both have canonically looked at her askance for not going to the Battle of Rook's Rest herself...even with how Aegon nearly died. just as people did to empress Matilda. And the accusations of cruelty, of course.

Also, (pre-Dance, since you speak of pre-Dance...post and during-Dance Alicent is a different thing) Alicent cautioned Aegon from going all out and killing Rhaenyra in "The Blacks and the Greens". Why? the taboo of kinslaying. She also criticized Aemond for killing Luke not bc she liked or respected either him or his mother but because it embroiled them into both a war and cast them as the power grabbing, undeserving party who potentially angered the god as well as ensured any of them could be killed before she could "prove" and intimidate Rhaenyra with a show of support for her sons that really was never going to come but she didn't seemingly believe that so....

[theweirdgoodbyes]

misadventures at nix’s tavern

“Joe, you’re fired.”

“No, I’m not.”

Lewis Nixon put his head in his hands and wonders why the fuck this needed to be happening today of all days. Despite never advertising as such, but possibly having to do with his brusque employees and inability to keep a female hire, Nix’s Tavern had gotten the reputation as both an Irish bar and a gay bar; March 17th and June 28th were their busiest days of the year. It was the morning of Saint Patrick’s Day and all hands were on deck to keep shit as together as possible: Joe was an active hindrance to that. Joe, all 135 pounds of him, was his best bartender and worst nightmare rolled into one. He could make a drink quicker and better than anyone, was never late, and managed to piss off everyone who stepped in the door, highlighted by last night’s disaster.

“Joe, don’t do this to me today. C‘mon, man.”

“You can’t fire me. What did I do wrong?” Joe, who he doesn’t even remember hiring by the way, throws his arms up.

“What did you-Joe, do you remember calling a woman a troglodyte last night? Because I do. Do you remember her throwing one of my martini glasses at your head? You still smell like olives.”

“I didn’t call her a troglodyte, I called her boyfriend one,” Joe shrugs, looking back at the bar he had been summoned from, “Can I get back to my prep?”

“Her boyfriend, oh, my deepest apologies,“ Nix presses his hands together in mock remorse, “Yes, you called her boyfriend a troglodyte. That makes it so much better. Joe, I cannot fucking have you here tonight. Just go home. Please, man.”

“You can’t expect Welsh and Luz to be on bar alone!” Joe cries, pointing at the two other bartenders who are supposed to be cutting limes but seem to be having more fun balancing shot glasses on their palms.

“They have each other. Put the fucking glass down, George!” George shoots Nix a quick thumbs up before the three glasses he has balancing in his other hand fall to the floor and shatter. George just gives him a shrug. God, this day needs to be done with already.

“Lew, are you fucking stupid?”

“Stupid for letting you work here? Stupid for opening this place? I’m the biggest idiot on fucking earth.”

“Lew,” Joe says, as serious as Joe can ever be, “I’ll be good tonight. Promise.” It’s a bold faced lie, but they both know that Joe needs to be here. A fact that Nix hates and Joe will never let him forget. For all his flaws and abilities to irritate the shit out of most of their customers, Joe had been a godsend after Buck quit.

“Joe, I swear to God,” Nix says, the same warning he’s given him time and time again, “Last chance.”

“Last chance.” Joe gives him a shit eating grin and a wink before getting up from their table and heading back to the bar, grabbing a pan and broom on the way to clean up George’s mess.

Joe fucking Liebgott, Nix laments as he gets up and makes him way to the kitchen to check on Malarkey, I hope you get your ass kicked tonight.

Enjoy this little add on to my other dive bar!au posts, all of which are now tagged under “misadventures at nix’s tavern!

[fanfic-lover-girl]

Bookstore scene: The tale of the 2 manbabies

First of all, let me preface with this: to me, the Weasleys are low class. Not in terms of wealth but in terms of how they carry themselves. Someone can be poor and carry themselves with poise and elegance. And someone rich can act as if they belong in the gutter with the riff-raff. In Jamaica, we say this saying by Professor Rex Nettleford "A butu in a Benz is still a butu".

This is not me saying the Weasleys are a horrible family (not the best either) or that the Malfoys are saints. I just hate the conduct of the Weasleys in general. I have seen some people on Tumblr praise how they act but I am not one of them.

Like father, like son - Reacting with physical violence when provoked by words

“Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley,” retorted Malfoy. “I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those.” Ron went as red as Ginny. He dropped his books into the cauldron, too, and started toward Malfoy, but Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of his jacket.

“Clearly,” said Mr. Malfoy, his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprehensively. “The company you keep, Weasley . . . and I thought your family could sink no lower —” There was a thud of metal as Ginny’s cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, “Get him, Dad!” from Fred or George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, “No, Arthur, no!”; the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over; “Gentlemen, please — please!” cried the assistant, and then, louder than all —

Props to Arthur for lasting longer, I guess. Barely. How embarrassing, starting a fight in front of children in a public area like a hormonal teenage boy. Molly said it best:

“A fine example to set for your children . . . brawling in public . . . what Gilderoy Lockhart must’ve thought —”

It's not an admirable trait for a man to be so quick to use his fists to solve conflicts. It may sound romantic but it's an express ticket for your man to end up in jail.

Two men acting like children

Also, look here:

“Well, well, well — Arthur Weasley.” It was Mr. Malfoy. He stood with his hand on Draco’s shoulder, sneering in just the same way.

Arthur is such a wonderful family man that he launched himself at Lucius while he was standing near his preteen son. He could have hurt Draco in the scuffle. The cynical part of me thinks Arthur doesn't give a damn if a child was hurt in the process of him acting like a teenage punk.

And why is Lucius wasting his time mocking the Weasleys? Does he not have better things to do? He's not exactly teaching his son proper manners either.

Just look at this man baby:

He was still holding Ginny’s old Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice. “Here, girl — take your book — it’s the best your father can give you —” Pulling himself out of Hagrid’s grip he beckoned to Draco and swept from the shop.

Throwing books at a little girl like Lucius isn't a grown-ass man. Exiting the scene like a humiliated highschool mean girl. No wonder Draco is like this. Goodness.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"Sinner & Saint" : Creed III Chapter 10

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

"You are my light in the dark

Show me the way with your heart

I know I'm not used to this feeling

But it's clear even when

I'm a thousand miles away

I'm so taken by ya, can't stop thinking bout ya

I am in love and from where I stand,

I am your man, I am...all, all…"

Terrell Grice feat George Lovett & Saeed— "All"

Donnie blinked at all the photographer lights flashing white and yellow blasts at him. Bianca and Amara sat to his right and Athena and Tony sat to his left with his new business partner Herb Raffe and the always ubiquitous Buddy Marcelle. Behind them on a giant ESPN banner his likeness held the coveted heavy weight belt and his upper body glistened and popped with muscles. Donnie knew this day would come, and the emotions roiled deep inside his chest.

Seated near the phalanx of news media and photographers were a few selected fighters on his roster, including Dame. The usual rush of questions came at him and he answered with the sophistication that all of his media training provided. Donnie needed to appear adroit and confident as a new brand manager and businessman. The transition from boxer to brains behind a multi-million dollar operation had to go off without a hitch.

"Why now, Adonis? Pundits say you have a good two-to-three years left in you."

The female reporter asking the question stood up holding a small notepad. She was a familiar face in the boxing scene, Carly Deloach, the daughter of a media magnate. Carly tossed back blond highlighted hair and gave him a warm flirty smile coaxing him to give her juicy details.

"It's time. I've reached the pinnacle and done everything I can to show the world that the Creed legacy is something to admire and be proud of. There's nothing left for me to do but usher in a new generation of talented boxers and pass on the wealth of knowledge I've gained from my training with Rocky Balboa, Tony "Little Duke" Evers, and the matriarch of the Creed family, Mary Anne Creed…hey Ma, love ya!"

Donnie winked and blew a kiss toward a camera that he knew transmitted his message to his mother at home. Another reporter jumped in, a cocky Sports Illustrated veteran who had doubts about Donnie from the very beginning until he finally won the belt. Patrick MacLaughlin was an asshole, but a fair one when he looked at the stats on all boxers. Patrick's stomach lopped over his belt, and his thinning hair stayed slicked down.

"Adonis, you toss around legacy a lot, and as the talented son of a beloved icon who has brought back a coveted world champion title to the family name—"

"I have to cut in, sorry Adonis…" Buddy said.

Buddy Marcelle gave a smirk that Donnie couldn't tell if it was meant to be rude or just hustling for air time. The man glanced at Athena who looked beautiful as always, dressed in a tight pumpkin top, and dark flared designer slacks. Buddy cleared his throat and continued.

"The Creed legacy can't be spoken about without mentioning the fact that Athena Creed brought back the first championship title to the family. I know this press conference is about Adonis, but Apollo Creed has two world champion fighters up here on this panel. Put some respect on your big sister's name, Adonis."

The crowd chuckled and a few of the women representing the media clapped and called out Athena's name.

"You right, you right," Donnie quickly blurted. He threw his arm around Athena. "My big sis is the first of Apollo's children to bring home a title. You people out there in the MMA arena are lucky she's a sports manager now instead of whooping ass!"

Athena laughed it off.

"Athena! Athena! Could you beat Adonis in a one on one?" Another reporter shouted.

Donnie pushed his table mic closer to her.

"Tell 'em," Donnie said.

Poised and polished, Athena leaned in.

"I had to always keep Adonis in check. The only thing he has on me is height and muscle weight," Athena joked.

Buddy horned in again.

"I think we need to see a big ticket event with these two, Creed versus Creed."

Athena waved a dismissive hand to Buddy and she patted Donnie's arm to get him back on track.

"Athena… what does this moment mean for you watching your brother retire?" Carly asked.

Something sad flashed across Athena's face and she composed herself. Reaching out to hold Donnie's hand she squeezed it and took a deep inhale.

"Our father would be very proud that both of his athletic children have found their niche to excel beyond fighting. Adonis will bring in a lot of new talent so that other boxing legends can come forth down the line…Donnie?"

Athena pushed the mic back toward him and sat back in her seat.

A new volley of questions hit him and Tony up fast and he allowed the last few questions to go to Bianca and Amara, who signed her delight at having her father home more since he didn't have to train and travel so far away as much. Bianca translated for the media and everyone clapped when Amara said that she planned on being a boxer like her Auntie Athena and her daddy.

Once the retirement portion was handled, Donnie spent the rest of the press time answering questions centered on his new venture. He revealed his partnership with Buddy Marcelle in promoting the new company. Everyone in the audience saw dollar signs and a revitalized boxing scene. Afterward, Donnie posed with his family for pictures. He also posed with a few of his boxers. Dame was pulled into the mix and Athena made sure he stood next to Donnie's future cash cow, Felix Chavez. There was still bad blood between Dame and Sleepy from their sparring dust up. But Felix soaked in the media exposure knowing he was the guy to watch. Two other strong contenders for heavyweight champ status enjoyed the limelight too.

A buzz entered the room the moment Dame's name rang bells, and during the retirement mixer Donnie set up for the ESPN coverage, Athena fielded questions with Dame. Felix felt a way about Dame shifting attention his way, but that was all due to Athena. The press loved getting soundbites from her and she was an expert at snagging spotlights for clients. She damn near twisted his arm to get Dame a seven figure signing bonus. She haggled for more through Dame's lawyer when they went over the contract, but Donnie didn't want to get his partners riled up over an untested client. He sweetened the deal by offering to put Dame in their ads over the next six months to bolster his visibility. She agreed to that…barely.

Athena was a pitbull, and she worked the room forcing him to do the same for Felix and the other boxers. They were both hustlers and no matter what she did to get Dame more exposure, it only helped Creed Enterprises.

"Hope I didn't step on your toes during the press chat," Buddy said, easing next to Donnie.

"Nah man, you were right to bring it up. Athena was the first, and she was way better than me when I started."

"I think people in this business tend to overlook her fighting talent. Just so you know, I want her to work for me one day."

"I doubt if she would, but you can certainly try," Donnie quipped.

"How come she's not a part of Creed Enterprises?"

"She wants to do her own thing."

"So no hard feelings if I poach her from her current gig?"

"Like I said, good luck with that."

"Her managing Dame isn't a problem for you?"

"Dame needs special handling. My sister likes a challenge and she is making a lot of good moves for him."

Buddy kept hawk-like eyes on his sister. Bianca and Amara joined them and they worked the room celebrating his new life. Patrick from Sports Illustrated approached him. Donnie pumped his hand up and down with enthusiasm.

"When can Felix sit down with you for that cover story?" Donnie asked.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about an in-depth interview with Damian Anderson. Athena pitched me a whopper of a comeback tale and I want to jump on it before Rolling Stone does."

"Pat, we talked about getting Felix on there before his next fight. He is the next big thing—"

"Yeah I know, but Damian is a more compelling story right now. When can we get together and talk shop about him?"

Donnie checked for his sister striding across the room holding a plate of food with Dame stuck to her side.

"Call Maxine to set up a date on my calendar, Pat"

"Great. You've got a helluva roster Adonis, and if the buzz on this Damian pans out, you and your boxers could dominate for years. Congrats on the retirement, too."

Pat shuffled off to speak with other reporters and Donnie stared at Felix who chatted with his mother/manager by the bar. He now had to come up with an excuse as to why he wouldn't have the next cover story. Fuck. Perhaps he could work in a one-on-one interview with Stephen A on SportsCenter for immediate coverage to get Felix out there first.

Athena handed Dame a shot of top shelf tequila and they both gulped back the liquid, letting it warm a trail down their throats.

"Doing okay?" she teased, watching Dame's lips pucker up from the intense taste.

"I don't need no more of that today," he joked.

"Look alive," Athena said.

Buddy Marcelle looped around a group of former boxers hooting it up and slapping backs at battles long past won.

"Today went well," Buddy said.

"Thank you for the kind words. I appreciate the shout out."

"I only spoke straight facts. You my dear are the crown jewel on Apollo Creed's crown. Folks need to remember an accurate legacy history. By the way, you look lovely today. That color brings out your skin tone."

"I can leave if you just wanna flirt," Dame said.

He had a smile on his face, but his tone said different. Buddy patted Dame's shoulder to defuse the heat in the boxer's eyes.

"Beauty and brains need to be acknowledged kind sir. I'm about to head out, I have an interview with Molly over on First Take tonight."

"Oh yeah?"

Buddy noticed the arch in her eyebrow and chuckled.

"You smell blood in the water and want to jump in, huh?"

"Hell yeah. I set up a cover story for Dame with Pat over on Sports Illustrated. I'm taking Eden from Rolling Stone to dinner tomorrow, trying to pitch my client."

Buddy eyed Dame with a sly quirk of his lips.

"Maybe let this man win some bouts before lining up too many interviews."

"I'm aiming for exclusives down the road for that."

"Okay…get his name out there. I see you. Can we meet up with some of my people to talk future promotions? Your brother's roster is full and he has to strike with his first string."

"He promised to give Dame as much attention too as part of our contract deal."

"Athena, you know how the game is. Chavez, Alvarez, and Jackson have Adonis booked and busy. Take advantage of some promotions in Dame's favor. My connections run deep big sister. Dame, I hope you do some serious winning these next six months before Adonis loses interest."

"He won't," Athena insisted.

"All I'm asking for is a sit down with you and Dame on my turf. Check out the lay of land and get in where you fit in." Buddy glanced at his rolex. "Call me when you're ready. We can make it dinner at 71 Above. Javier has a new menu I think you'd both like."

"I'll let you know."

Buddy meandered toward the exit leaving Athena with thoughts about Donnie cooling on her client. She snatched up another shot of tequila from the bar.

"He's right. You've got to win big to stay on Donnie's radar."

Dame put a hand around her waist and pulled her in close. His touch ignited arousal in her and she wanted so desperately to kiss his lips. They hadn't had any private time since they returned from Vegas. She needed him…needed the intimacy that shut out the world.

"Careful," she said stepping back from his solid wall of warmth.

Dame grinned and removed his hand before anyone clocked their true relationship.

"Invite Marcelle to my first fight. He'll have no doubts about me," Dame said.

"Don't worry, he'll be there on his own. That man doesn't miss anything that can make him richer. I think you should mingle with the other boxers now. I'm done beating the bushes for game."

Dame touched his index and middle finger to his forehead and saluted her before walking over to Donnie and the other fighters. She grabbed a glass of white wine and bee-lined over to Bianca and Amara. Her niece hugged her waist and Athena ruffled the spiral curls on top of her head.

"Excited?" Athena asked Bianca.

"Relieved. I couldn't wait for this day. Ma is ecstatic because he will finally use that business degree from college."

Amara took off skipping over to her father. Bianaca studied Athena's face.

"Does it bother you when people forget that you're a champion too?"

"That was so long ago—"

"Not really. You seemed happy that Buddy brought it up. I could tell."

"I appreciated him saying it."

"Will you come by our place for dinner tonight?"

"I thought there was going to be a big dinner celebration with Ma at the mansion."

"I wanted to do something at our house to give her a little break."

"A break from what?"

Bianca pulled her to the side.

"Have you noticed Ma slowing down or forgetting things a lot lately?" Bianca asked.

"Slowing down, yes… but that's her getting older and not doing the stretching and strength training I've tried to help her with. Maybe her hip is acting up. I mean, it's been a year since her replacement surgery, but…"

Bianca's expression hinted at something more serious. Her voice went even lower in volume.

"I think you and I should go with her to get checked out. The other day she was driving me to lunch and I noticed some eye-hand coordination things that have me concerned."

"You think it's something serious?"

"If I broach the subject she'll dismiss it, but if you come with me and talk to her about it, maybe she'll listen. I'm with her all the time and a different voice may convince her to make an appointment. Donnie had a lot going on and I didn't want to worry him about it. I was thinking we could talk to her after dinner. If it's at my house, she can't make an excuse to be busy hosting everything. It'll be out of her element."

"What time?"

"Seven. It'll be a catered BBQ around the pool, casual dress. Donnie wanted a lowkey family-oriented party. No celebs or anything like that. Just our people."

"Okay, I'll come to the house and do some girl time. Who else is coming from the gym?"

"Tony, Stich, Smoky... Padman and Amir. You can bring Dame if you want."

"Why would I bring my client?"

"Girl, be serious."

Bianca snickered and Athena rolled her eyes.

"That man has heart eyes for you and can't let you out of his sight without his neck swiveling."

Bianca moved in closer, and her eyes darted about before she spoke.

"I know what happened with him and Donnie."

"How do you feel about it?"

Bianca glanced over at Donnie and Dame speaking with the other boxers.

"It was a shitty situation and they were kids back then. Dame sounds like he wants to make the most of the opportunity to box again and Donnie will help him."

"It's the least he can do, right?"

Donnie walked over swinging Amara's hand.

"Ready to dip?" Donnie asked.

He kissed Bianca's cheek. Bianca spoke and signed at the same time.

"Yeah. I need to get the house ready for our guests tonight and check in with the caterers."

"Coming by right?" Donnie asked Athena.

"I have to check in with a few other clients downtown and I'll be over around seven-thirty depending on traffic."

"Cool. Hey, you were great up there. I'm glad you agreed to sit at the table with me. I wish Ma was here though."

"She hates media stuff and I'm sure she wanted the focus to be about you. I'll catch everyone tonight. Bye Ladybug."

Athena signed away for Amara, and her niece hugged her tight then clutched both of her parents' hands. A surge of people bid farewell to Donnie. Athena made her quiet escape from the crowd and sought out Damian.

"I'm going to pick you up at seven tonight," she said.

"For what?"

Dame followed her steps out of the ESPN building and waited with her for their valet parking.

"You were invited to attend Donnie's private family retirement party at his house by Bianca."

"Not Donnie?"

"Not sure, but Bianca is on to us. I think that's why she extended the invitation. Do you want to go? Sorry for assuming you would just go with me."

His lion-like eyes brought butterflies again. Dame had a way of looking at her that made Athena feel safe and protected.

"I want to go…with you. I like that you assume that about me. It's true."

"Okay, great. It's a date. We'll have to carry on like client-manager for appearances, but it'll be more relaxed. My mother will be there…if you change your mind, I won't be offended."

"Nah, its fine. It's time that your mother met me away from all the limelight. Maybe she'll finally see the real me."

"Trust me. She won't.

"Well then, that's on her. Not me."

The valet brought her car around and they both climbed in for the drive to Venice Beach.

"Want to come inside for a minute?" Dame offered once they reached his place.

He stood outside of the passenger side, leaning in through the window. Temptation reared up, but job responsibilities took precedence for Athena.

"I can't. I have some work to do."

"How about I meet you at your place and save you the drive out here? I'll leave my car in your parking garage."

"That'll work."

"Later," he said.

He tapped his fist on the door and strolled to the house he rented a room from. Despite having a million dollars in his bank account, Dame chose to stay in his Venice rental until he won his first post-prison fight. That would be in one week, and she had a lot of things to do to drum up more pub. The buzz about him in the ESPN mixer could only last so long before the sports media moved on to the next interest story.

Her day continued until she clocked out from her office. She swept into her condo showered, and changed into a comfortable pair of olive green cargo pants and a knotted, off-the-shoulder knit top in a loud tangerine color. Slipping into heels, she checked her landline for messages and ignored the ones from her ex who flew back into town from Toronto. Nolan was a long-distance fling that became a bit more the previous year, but Athena caught wind of some red flags, one of which was a whole ass wife and child with another baby on the way. Before the discovery of his indiscretion with her, Athena's gut warned her pre-relationship not to entertain a man below her pay grade with a Drake-like personality of feigned kindness and "you-go-girl" performative musings in her ear, but she was in a dick drought and a hook up every now and then from a Canuck worked around her schedule at the time.

Nolan started acting weird too, sending her flowers and gifts out of the blue, even after she clearly defined the boundaries of their relationship after she broke it off. Now he was back to leaving messages swearing he divorced his wife and was ready to make a true commitment. What a fucking loser. He had deluded himself into thinking they were serious instead of just a poor match. She blocked his number, erased the other unimportant messages and waltzed out of the premises to meet Dame at her garage entrance.

He arrived on time and she showed him where to park his car and ordered a ride from her reliable car service. They were picked up promptly and she held Dame's hand in the backseat, snuggling against his shoulder like they were headed to prom together.

"You look nice," she said, sniffing the cologne on his neck.

She noticed a new platinum and diamond chain around his neck.

"Finally splurged," he said as she fingered the necklace.

"Good for you. Listen, since this shindig is at Bianca's, my mother may be a little more extra because she can't lord over anyone in the family mansion. If she becomes too much or gives you a hard time, let me know and we can bounce quick."

"I'm not worried. Relax. This night is about Adonis—"

"Tuh…trust me, everything will revolve around her. Me and Donnie know how to stay outta her way when she gets nitpicky."

"She gets along with Bianca?"

"Yeah, they're pretty tight. Bianca lost her parents young and most of her family is back in Philly. She's a great buffer for me because she doesn't have a mother-figure in her life, so she takes up a lot of mother-daughter duties that would be hell for me if I had to do it all the time. Don't misconstrue anything though. I love my mother and we have our own good times, but sometimes she gets a little classist and obsessive about things and I can't take it…so Bianca does. It smoothes Ma out and brings balance to the force when we don't butt heads."

"I hear ya young Jedi," Dame teased.

By seven-forty five they reached the private entrance of Donnie and Bianca's place. Athena hopped out of their ride to punch in the gate security code. A yellow cab pulled up to the driveway behind their hired driver. An older man with a black hat climbed out from the back of the cab and looked around the neighborhood. Athena recognized the pale leathery skin and puffy nose. She sprinted down to the street.

"Ohmigod, Rocky!" she shrieked.

Rocky Balboa stood humbly dressed in an old black bomber jacket and a clean white shirt. His wrangler jeans were faded and comfortable-looking. He held out his arms for Athena, accepting the big kiss on his cheek from her.

"Yeah, I just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I'd check up on some retired boxer whose s'posed to be living here. Am I at the right spot?" Rocky joked in his heavy Philly accent.

His jovial eyes stared at her.

"Athena, my god girl, look how beautiful you are. It's been years sweetheart," Rocky said.

Athena wiped her eyes from errant tears.

"Whaddya crying for? It's just me, Uncle Rocky. Is the BBQ here yet? I'm starvin'."

"I guess we'll go see," she said.

"Me being here is supposed to be a surprise. Bianca said to give the gate intercom a code word to hide me from Donnie, but my old brain is gettin' foggy with time, so…hell if I know what the magic word is to get inside."

"No worries, you can come in with me and…Dame…come over and meet the only Italian in our family."

Dame walked over with a grin on his face. He held out his hand for Rocky to shake.

"An honor to meet you Mr. Balboa, sir."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Dame. This is a nice-looking young man Athena. Mary Anne must be excited to see you settling down like your brothers."

"Um, actually Rocky, I manage Dame. He's a part of Donnie's new venture."

"A boxer. What division? I don't keep up on the ins and outs as much. I spend more time with my grandkids up north," Rocky said.

"Heavyweight," Dame said.

"You're going to know more about him in the weeks to come. Let's get you inside before Bianca sends out the calvary," Athena said.

She punched in the gate code and Dame gave up his seat in the back of the car to Rocky. He climbed into the front next to the driver and Athena linked her arm around Rocky's.

"I can't believe you're here. You look good Unc. Being up north looks great on you."

"Thank you. Health is holding up. Knees are a little rusty sometimes but I'm still here."

"Drop us off right by the statue, please," Athena told the driver.

They all left the car and Rocky continued looking around.

"Nice…lotta space," Rocky said.

Athena texted Bianca and three minutes later she bounced out from the house trying to contain the squeals at seeing Rocky.

"Bianca…"

Rocky hugged her and Bianca squeezed his shoulders.

"So happy you're here. The caterers finished setting up out by the pool. Everyone is here mingling, so Athena, I'll go back in with Dame first to throw off Donnie, then you can bring Rocky in through the house."

"Sure thing," Athena said.

Music started playing and echoed in the front of the property. Bianca led Dame around the side toward the back and Athena guided Rocky inside the front door. Amara met them while coming down the stairs and the little girl's hands flew around signing her happiness at seeing the Italian Stallion, her godfather. Rocky hugged her and used sign language to warn her about the surprise. His thick fingers moved slower and he checked with Athena to make sure he did alright. Amara understood everything, complimenting him on his ability to sign so well and clasped his hand to follow Athena through the living room and long gameroom that led to the back patio door facing the pool area.

The music, a jazz fusion, buffeted the laughter and loud talking. Athena could smell the delicious aroma of ribs and her stomach growled in anticipation. She stepped outside first and took in the celebratory scene. At least forty people chatted and drank expensive liquor. Donnie was in the middle of introducing Dame to Padman and right away she observed her mother's lips growing tight as she stood with her companion, Archie. Athena ignored the cool facial expression of her mother and caught Bianca's eye. Bianca gave her a nod, and she cleared her throat.

"Hey, Donnie, there's a man over here looking for you. I don't know if he's supposed to be here," Athena said.

The tone of her voice over the music brought everyone's attention in her direction. Donnie rushed over and Rocky appeared next to her with Amara grinning by his side.

"Unc!" Donnie yelled.

Everyone reacted with a burst of praise shouting, rushing over to Rocky. Bianca clasped her hands together, pleased that her surprise brought on the intended reception. Dame hung back near the food set up, right across from Mary Anne and Archie.

The glee of having Rocky there showered the air with rousing sounds of joy all around, but Mary Anne's eyes cut over toward Dame, and he gave Athena the biggest smile of support. She could face anything with that smile in her corner.

Athena took a deep breath and strolled toward her mother.

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[popculturebuffet]

Labor Day Striketacular II: The Jefferson's Florence's Union

Hello all you happy people and happy labor day.

A time to relax, celebrate all your hard work and

It's also time for what's become a yearly tradition: our labor day striketacular, a look at strike themed episoders.. and once again there's a labor despute going on this time with both the animation and video game voice actors rightfully going on strike. Given teh head of amazon games actually said "there's no acting in games anyway" despite you know, several of the parent companies hottest shows coming from gaming and runnin ga game company, it feels like this might not settle.

So to stand in solidarity have something that's neither a video game nor animation, but still gets across the spirit that unionns are necessary and those against them generally just don't really give a shit about the worker and want to bust them soley for their own sake.

Thus we're back with the Jefferson's, Kev's faviorite sitcom. And I happily endulge as... I get it

I GET it. And i'm glad he did as not only was this a decent, if uneven episode, we'll get to that, and it's fun to see sitcoms take on strikes, it also let me know you can watch this episode and many more for FREE

Yup whole episode right there and that channel the norman lear effect is slowly uploading pretty much all of his shows. You want to see all in the family? have some good times? finally watch facts of life or the original one day at a time? (Though do yourself a favor and check out the netflix reboot, his final live action sitcom, it's fucking great). IT's all here and it's all damn good and i'm so happy it's being shared. So join me under the cut as we move on up once again and as George flip flops on unions a few times and makes an ass of himself.. so about what you'd expect out of Jeffersons about unions really but still not bad.

We open with Louise , the head out of the house making some peeking duck when her maid, Florence wants her to leave. She wants her out of the house and to go see a movie, a charming sounding slasher. I mean I would but I get that's not WHeezie's thing so she sticks around long enough to see who Flo is waiting for: A fellow maid. As the name suggests Florence is trying to get a union started in their building, having been drafted as possible leader by a local unionizer.

I like this opening because while Flo and WHeezie are really just as much best friends as maid and employer, that line of one writing the others checks is always going to be there and Flo can't guarantee Wheezie will be on her side.

Wheezie is of course for two reasons: She's a saint and she was a maid. She knows how hard it is and the episode firmly shows WHY the maids are unionizing: their bosses treat them like furniture dressing them (The maid who showed up is dressed in a sterotypical maid's uniform and one at the full meeting later complaints about being dressed to match the tacky furniture), exerting control over them and not giving them paid vacation. Wheezie goes on at length about an awful boss who always complaind any time she so much as talked and she coudln't leave because of the bills. It's a nice reminder Wheezie.. hasn't forgotten where she came from. That of the two jeffersons she's the groudned one remembering how hard it was to get here and thus helping prop others up.

Naturally.. George is the perfect counterpoint to this, a nice conflict I love being brought up: that just because you struggled to get where you are or had a hard life.. dosen't mean you actually care about the people still on the ground trying to move on up like you did. We see it on the right all the time and if you wanted to avoid me being political why the hell did you read this far in a review of a norman lear show? You've got fucks like vp canditate jd vance writing an entire novel to paint the place he came from as a place populated by simple hillfolk who don't know better. The truth is it's up to those who have power or have gained it to help, to remember their empathy and where they came from or where they may never have been.

George however is a king sized ass with no empathy to him, so when he finds wheezie with flo's friend who works for the owner of the buildling (the one in the maid outfit) and the union's organizer who smells peeking duck a mile away and is shocked Wheezie isn't a maid herself , he's an ass. Granted the union rep insults him, but that's a natural response to being around george for more than a minute.

George not supporting unions though makes sense: it's a character trait of Geroge's i've seen that for the most part, he's ditched his past, tries to leave it behind. He's proud of how far he's come and will fucking wreck you if your a racist piece of a shit, easily. But he's also argoant, in love with his money, and has to be reminded where he started some of the time. It's why I like the character: he's hard to watch sometims, but like Archie Bunker, his direct foil, he's a flawed man shaped by how he grew up who badly needs to grow as a person and sometimes just.. might not. This is an issue he dosen't agree with as he thinks Flo does little work, hates her on sight and only hired her on Wheezie's urging. Of course he's not going to like something she supports and Flo isn't helping win him over.

Granted he takes it too far... assuming because it's partly his house he can block a meeting from being held there, and flip flopping when the other maid mentions who she works for.. then flip flopping again when the building owners goon shows up to say the man's disgust and george, to suck up, agrees and refuses.

So rather than... just ignore george and have the meeting anyway as it's her house and he can sleep outside it for the night if he wants to mak ea dael of it and is being an unresonable ass, or point out "I was a maid too ya dick"... WHeezie... tricks him to go out with their rich neighbor who shows up in his underwear in the intro for some reason

But dosen't show up in the episode otherwise, while she sneaks the maids in. And this part of the ep feels.. weak. While I do think Wheezie prefers to just work AROUND george, and he wasn't listening to reason.. I don't see her as backing down this easily nor letting his nonsense ensue. Granted I also have only seen about 5 episodes of the show, so I could be entirely wrong. Or she could simply not want George to make a giant scene which.. fair.

So after a few natural "oh no he wont' leave and their hear early" shenanigans we get the Maid's meeting which I do enjoy as they talk about just how.. inhumanly their treated. The dress thing from earlier, one marking the scotch bottle "Good thing I drink burbon", as well as Florence struggling to get them to make actual demands.. and then getting to them and their all.. fair: Sick leave, vacation pay, a raise. All stuff people should have in general and shouldn't need a union to get.

Naturally this quickly goes to shit as OF COURSE George comes home. And OF COURSE the guy who owns the building who i'm not giving the dignity of learning his name as h'es both your standard white guy and a giant asshole, shows up. And this part does work better as it shows WHY it can often be hard to argue with management and why you need an intermediary like a unionn, something hard and in place... because this fuckers first instict is to try to get names and faces, with most hiding it. And while ti's played slightly as a gag... it's also a very real peril. Florence's Friend from earlier is horrified when she exits the bathroom to find the guy there and is forced to go with him: she has kids to support. All they want is basic rights and this fucker wants to threaten their livelihoods. It's why I don't care to remember what his name is: there's a thousand employers like him who will gladly bust a union simply to save a penny. It's why the AI fight is so vital: bosses genuinely WANT to replace actors and creators with ai because it's cheaper and can't be let to do that. Unions are important because sometimes it's the only voice the worker has.

And that's driven home as Florence TRIES to be civil. She dosen't like the guy.. but asks him to simply just listen. And his repsonse? "Why would I do that?" It's simple, and punches you in the throat. It's why this episode mostly works for me: the two union busting assholes we see are over the top enough to fit this breed of dick... but still restrained enough to be a boss you could have. The kind who dosne't care about you and will gladly fire you for trying to make your life better for asking for the bare minimum.

When wheezie gently presses it he says "tha'ts the problem with you people". And unfortunately for him he pressed the "you people" button

So George steps in and shows his inner noblilitY: he may be a dick.. but NO ONE is a dick to his wife. His maid yes, he says it himself. Florence is less than surprised. But Wheezie for all he tries to walk over her... is the one thing you cannot fuck with and expect to get away. He then boldly lets the union use his place and when that's too big one of his shops and when mr white antagonist tries to use the fact he owns the leases to both, George beats him with simple logic: he pays his rent on time for both. He has nothing to fear. And yeaht he guy could use shady tactics, but that just gives George ammo for a lawsuit (Which George can more than afford) or to go to the press. George is a hero

Sadly.. this episode messes itself up with a button. Geroge backtracks and we end on him calming that was a tiny man pretending ot be him. I get needing to end on a gag and it is in character.. but it kinda removes the punch a bit to have george try to walk it back. Realistic yes, really fitting with the episode.. no.

So this episode is decent having some solid jokes, fun george antics and a great message.. but it's muted a bit. While there being no clear ending to the union, if Flo's friend will stay in it, or even stay employed works, Norman Lear was ace at sometimes not giving the cleanest resolution, I feel Florence kinda fades into the background in the second half, being more passive until the asshole arrives and then saying nothing. It feels like the big defense speech SHOULD'VE been hers. This episode was solid getting across the issue without offering an easy solution but COULD have been so much stronger. Thanks for reading

[quordleona03]

Classic Fantasy in English

250 years, 69 books, 48 writers

Gulliver's Travels - Jonathan Swift - 1726

Fairy Tales Told for Children - Hans Christian Andersen - 1835-1863 tr. Mrs. H. B. Paull 1867-1872

The Water-Babies - Charles Kingsley - 1863

Alice in Wonderland/Through The Looking Glass - Lewis Carroll - 1865/1871

Mopsa The Fairy - Jean Ingelow - 1869

At the Back of the North Wind, George MacDonald - 1871

The Princess and the Goblin/The Princess and Curdie - George MacDonald - 1872/1883

The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde - R. L. Stevenson - 1886

The Happy Prince and Other Stories - Oscar Wilde - 1888

News from Nowhere - William Morris - 1890

The Book of Dragons - E. Nesbit - 1901

The Just So Stories - Rudyard Kipling - 19021

Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie - 1902-1911

The Enchanted Castle - E. Nesbit - 1907

Puck of Pook's Hill/Rewards and Fairies - Rudyard Kipling - 1906/1910

Lud in the Mist - Hope Mirrlees - 1926

The Midnight Folk - John Masefield - 1927

Dr. Dolittle in the Moon - Hugh Lofting - 1928

Patapoufs et Filifers / Fattypuffs and Thinifers - André Maurois - 1930/tr. Rosemary Benet 1940

The 35th of May, or Conrad's Ride to the South Seas - Erich Kästner - 1931, tr. Cyrus Brooks 1934

Jirel of Joiry - C. L. Moore - 1934-1939

The Tale of the Land of Green Ginger - Noel Langley - 1937

My Friend Mr Leakey - J. B. S. Haldane - 1937

The Hobbit/The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien - 1937-1955

Le Petit Prince / The Little Prince - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry 1943 tr Katherine Woods

The Wind on the Moon - Eric Linklater - 1944

Mistress Masham's Repose - T.H. White - 1946

The Little White Horse - Elizabeth Goudge - 1946

Trollkarlens Hatt / Finn Family Moomintroll - Tove Jansson - 1948 tr. Elizabeth Portch 1950

Nineteen Eighty-Four - George Orwell - 1949

Seven Days in New Crete - Robert Graves - 1949

The Borrowers / Afield / Afloat / Aloft / Avenged - Mary Norton - 1952/1955/1959/1961/1982

All You've Ever Wanted / More Than You Bargained For - Joan Aiken - 1953/1955

To the Chapel Perilous - Naomi Mitchison - 1955

Tom's Midnight Garden - Philippa Pearce - 1958

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe - C. S. Lewis - 1950

The 13 Clocks - James Thurber - 1950

Round the Bend - Neville Shute - 1951

The Armourer's House - Rosemary Sutcliff - 1951

The Once and Future King - T. H. White - 1938-1958

Candy Floss / Impunity Jane / Miss Happiness and Miss Flower - Rumer Godden 1954 / 1960 / 1961

Sword at Sunset - Rosemary Sutcliff - 1963

Book of Heroes - William Mayne - 1966

Tree and Leaf\Smith of Wootton Major - J. R. R. Tolkien - 1945-1967

The Crystal Cave / The Hollow Hills / The Last Enchantment / The Wicked Day - Mary Stewart 1970-1983

Dragonflight - Anne McCaffrey - 1968

A Wizard of Earthsea / The Tombs of Atuan / The Farthest Shore - Ursula K. Le Guin - 1968/1971/1972

Red Moon and Black Mountain - Joy Chant - 1970

Tom Ass or The Second Gift - Ann Lawrence - 1972

The Dark Is Rising/Greenwitch/The Grey King - Susan Cooper - 1973 / 1974 / 1975

[spark-glow]

top 5 gulag moments

This is so fucking hard, dude. I'm gonna say this one is in no particular order just because of the nature of it. Also doing 10 because the Gulag is too funny for just 5.

1.) When Rewind was off his gourd on pain meds and desperately tried to warn King about his peppers when y'all were playing Stardew Valley.

2.) That one time Snow ordered really really hot wings on accident and I instructed him to up the sensitivity on his mic so we could hear him suffer through every single bite and it was, without a doubt, the most horrible 15 minutes of our lives. I would make him do it again.

3.) This bit from when we were binging the entirety of the George Lopez show.

4.) When we rocked some random poll on babycenter for DAYS ON END so some poor kid out there would be named fucking Nedward. Genuinely possible that we led to a real human being being named Nedward.

5.) Tony's peggle stream. Literally had me, him, King, and Remy sitting there for 2+ hours, entirely invested in every single part of what was happening in that game. The 3 of us were sitting on the sidelines while he was playing like trusted military advisors, goading him into ploys such as 'just trust the zen ball, zen ball knows more than you 4head'. When we finally beat the last level, it was like we were on the streets when WW2 was declared over. Bedlam.

Also Tony made the stream look like fucking THIS by the end, which was a MESS.

6.) Both of these instances of Tau sleepy posting just days apart. I know it's technically 2 events but they're so intertwined in my head. Him perfectly and coherently saying 'DROWN' in the middle of the convo is literally legendary to me.

7.) Every single silly bit we've ever done in Red Dead Online, but especially the two times we've spent 25+ minutes sailing from Saint Denis to Thieves Landing so we could go over the falls in a big conga line of boats, AND all of the time we've spent at the fucked up bridges at Hennigan's Stead.

Shout out to Percy for clipping an instance of the latter together for us. Sad I don't have the footage of when Tony got slingshot into a rockwall and was forced to see a version of Kicking Horse (my character) that was just a generic white lady, but this is just as good.

8.) That one time I convinced Rewind to secretly send a fucking Intruder makeship plushie to Tony's house, so he could not only avoid really expensive norway shipping but also have a funny surprise for when he came to the states next. We uh... did not expect his mom to open the package and give Tony the funniest fucking heart attack in the world.

9.) Remy editing Shockwave's tits to be bigger and then trying to see if anyone would notice. Shout out to King for getting my ass when I wasn't even fucking AWAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

10.) This could go to so many fucking things but i'm gonna go ahead and put down when we were arguing about what color Prime Ratchet was and found out the Pope died smack in the middle of the debate.

Special shout outs go to armored freaks, olm posting because I was forced to see bad TF content, and every single one of the really fucking funny Apex clips we've gotten that I can't share cause they aren't up anywhere yet.

I love the Gulag.

[briamichellewrites]

1

1998. Bria Michelle Johnson was the adopted daughter of investor, Chris Johnson and makeup designer, Rita Johnson. Together, their net worth was in the multi-billions. They spoiled their daughter with whatever she wanted growing up. She went to a boarding school in Switzerland where she was able to participate in their theatre program. They also paid for voice lessons, acting classes, piano and guitar lessons; and dance lessons. She learned ballet, jazz, and hip-hop.

With only three hundred students, the school was quite small. They knew that if given a chance, she would be on stage performing. Whether it was dancing during talent shows or performing in one of their plays or musicals. She often had the lead role because of her talents. Her parents tried to see her performances whenever they could.

At eighteen years old, she learned that her parents were killed in a car accident. A driver under the influence of drugs and alcohol crashed into their car at over a hundred miles an hour. They both died on impact. Because of their deaths, she was given everything. That included their house in Los Angeles, their apartment in Waldorf-Astoria, their car collection, a private plane, a house in the Hamptons, and a house in Middletown, New Jersey.

After graduating, she returned home to LA. She had nothing, as everything had to go through the probate court before it legally became hers. Her family’s attorney allowed her to live in the house until everything was settled. She could then sell or keep whatever she wanted. The house was her childhood home, so she wanted to keep it.

She was introduced to Brad Delson and Mike Shinoda by Jeff Blue, an A&R guy for Warner Music. He heard her demo and he had her come in for an audition. Once she was signed, he had her meet them. They introduced themselves to her. It’s nice to meet you. What kind of music was she looking to play? Indie folk or country. She wanted to tell stories like Bruce Springsteen. Even though she had grown up in Switzerland and LA.

Jeff had her play something for them, so she got a guitar that was lying around and picked it up. When she sang, they heard her voice. It sounded like nineteen-sixties folk rock. Maybe a little Johnny Cash or Joan Baez. When she was done, they clapped for her. Where did she learn how to sing? She had voice lessons in school. What school did she go to? She went to Saint George’s Boarding School in Switzerland. They had a performing arts program.

Boarding school? What was that like? It was an interesting experience. She guessed it was like college, except with more adult supervision. They laughed. What else did she learn? Did she take any music lessons or classes? She took piano lessons, dance classes, and acting classes. For dance, she took jazz, hip-hop, and ballet. It was a great way to work out.

She had to be on stage performing, even when she fell on her ass. They laughed. That happened once during a ballet recital. She got up, bowed, and then went back to the choreography. They wanted to help her with her album, so they invited her to join them. At the moment, they were using Mike’s in-home studio to make demos. They thought she would get along well with their band members. She thought it sounded like a cool idea, so she accepted their invitation.

Mike lived in a rented house with his college roommate, Joe Hahn. Together, they formed a band with Brad, Rob Bourdon, and Dave ‘Phoenix’ Farrell. They were currently looking for a lead singer after firing Mark Wakefield. He and Brad introduced her when she came over. The guys thought she was beautiful! Joe offered her a coke.

Yeah, thanks. They found she fit in perfectly with them. She could tolerate their sense of humor and she wasn’t afraid of being the only girl. Her long brown hair had been dyed black and cut short to her chin. It was hidden underneath a beanie. She had tights underneath shorts with an oversized Bon Jovi t-shirt and a plaid long-sleeve top. Dave asked if she was going grunge. She was feeling a little Seattle rock at the moment.

She was thinking of piercing the cartilage in her nose and getting a tattoo to honor her parents. What happened to them? They were killed by a driver under the influence of drugs and alcohol. I’m sorry. Thank you. She also wanted to adopt a kitten.

“Decisions. Decisions. What will you decide to do”, Rob joked.

“I don’t know. I’m indecisive. I’ve always wanted a cat but I’ve never been able to. It wouldn’t have been fair because I was at school.”

“Bria, get the cat”, Joe said.

“I might have to give into peer pressure.”

They laughed. Did she get the cat? She did! Woody was an eight-week-old brown and white domestic shorthair kitten. Everything about him was adorable! He meowed at her and pawed at her leg, making her crouch down to him. Hi, human! She said hello to him and scratched his little head. He got excited when he saw he was getting adopted. I’m going home! Meow. Meow.

They went to Petsmart to get everything he needed. He had a collar and a leash, which were required in the store. As they walked around, he looked at everything while in the cart. He was curious about everything! There was so much to see and smell and hear! There were humans everywhere! He wanted to say hello to them. Meow. Meow. Some of the workers stopped to say hello to him. Hi, human! I’m Woody! I got adopted today!

He wanted to play on the belt at the register, but Bria picked him up. She didn’t want his little paws getting smashed. When they got to the car, she put him back into his carrier before putting the purchases in the backseat. Yes, she had an assistant who usually did the shopping for her, but she wanted to do this herself. Nicole was hired by her mother to take over the day-to-day responsibilities.

She was a woman in her twenties who had recently moved to LA from New York. They also had a long-time housekeeper named, Rosita. She and her husband, Miguel immigrated from Mexico in 1990. They both loved Bria and her parents because they were so kind to them. Her parents gave them money when they needed help paying bills or expensive gifts. They were considered family to them. Bria was not a spoiled brat, despite her immense wealth.

She was taught to never look down on anyone and to always be thankful for what she had. Everything could be taken away from her at any moment. Woody had zero knowledge of that. He was involved in watching his human put everything together for him. His water and food bowls went into the kitchen. She filled up the bowl with water before setting it down. His litter box went into the laundry room.

His toys, bed, and cat tree went into the living room. He had everything a kitten could need and want. For the moment, he wanted to play. Bria went into the kitchen and found the takeout menus. She looked through them as she thought about where she wanted to order from. As she made up her mind, the phone rang. It was Dave. She invited him over and gave him her address. After hanging up, she ordered pizza to be delivered. She then went to the living room to play with Woody.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia

[tracing-rivers]

for the "not from the us" asks

10. most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

11. favourite native writer/poet?

26. does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal?

27. favourite national celebrity?

Merci pour cette ask ^^

10. Most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

Nothing like a good "putain" ("fuck", literally "whore") to punctuate a sentence.

And "sa mère" ("their mom"), short for "sa mère la pute" ("their mom the whore") which stands for "whoopsies" in my mouth. (Many of our slurs are sex work based, that's why it's called SWearing).

That said, I've also trained myself to "zut et flûte" ("dang and flute") mechanically now. Sounds more professional at work.

11. Favorite native writer/poet?

Pierre Corneille. Read Le Cid, putain, I'll never say it enough.

26. Does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? What do you think about the portrayal?

Y'all have a thing about frogs uh.

And you need to understand that France is not entirely Paris (specifically the cute little cobblestone streets of Paris). And Emily in Paris is not accurate btw it's so fucking stupid (besides the McDonald's at Saint-Lazare station is so much "fancier" than the one on the Champs Elysées if that's where you put your standards, get your facts right).

(Also, history time, there's a lot of stray bullets towards France as a whole in American media. The thing is, those jibes are a fairly recent thing, cause we used to be your liberty buddies. We free you from the British, you free us from the Germans, tit for tat. But then George Bush Jr wanted to invade Quwait for oil and our gov was like "excüse moi you can't juste blatantly invade a country for resources that's our thing" and Bush was like "aw but I want to" but the French vetoed him so, much like a 13 yo going "you're not even my real father!!1!1" after his dad wouldn't let him get a tattoo of Bart Simpson's ass, Bush mediatized a whole anti French propaganda campain. I assure you that all of the jokes against the French that you've seen on TV in the past 25 years are the result of this campain. So yeah, I don't really care about criticism that comes from the same place as freedom fries. (Which are Belgian btw. Fries are Belgian.) Everyone else gets a pass though.)

27. Favorite national celebrity?

Well that's extremely broad. We've got a lot of those but I don't really have strong parasocial feelings about anyone.

Okay, uh Philippe Poutou, for comitting to the bit of telling it like it is and barely being a politician as a result.

And I want to snuggle in front of a fire with Pierre Niney but who wouldn't. And nail entire cast of The Three Musketeers (2023).

And Joueur du Grenier on Youtube, look him up, a lot of his videos come with subs. He's got the Nostalgia Critic style, and he's the last of the big French Youtube Pioneers to still do quality stuff.

[topdog-georgette]

"fifty-six blue ribbons. fourteen regional trophies. SIX-TIME NATIONAL CHAMPION."

inspired  by  !  georgette (oliver and company)

added inspo  !   blair waldorf (gossip girl), miranda priestly/emily charlton (the devil wears prada), samantha jones/carrie bradshaw (sex in the city), alison dilaurentis (pretty little liars), massie block (the clique), shelby cummings (a cinderella story), chanel oberlain (scream queens), regina george (mean girls), lindsay edgecomb (before i fall)

georgette audrey foxworth. jordan alexander. august 18. leo. influencer. new york city, new york. heterosexual. primadonna - marina and the diamonds. breakfast at tiffany's. college. choleric (dominant). estj. lawful neutral. n/a. slytherin. (🎀 💎)

present !! 

Georgette is bitter. She’s in Elias because she has to be, not because she wants to be… and where she wants to be is her 5th Avenue penthouse in the city of her dreams living the life she was supposed to have after looking her mother in the eyes and telling the divorce lawyers that she would be staying with her father. The girl is in denial about all of her inner demons and that manifests itself in an ego the size of Manhattan. An ego that Jenny and Oliver (and now the whole of Elias) has to deal with. Georgette is supposed to be looking out for the pair as they navigate through university, but she’s more concerned with rebuilding her brand in a mysterious city that she knows nothing about. She went from holding New York in the palm of her hand to now having to start all over on the bottom of the Elias barrel. The girl is determined to show this city (and her new adoring fans) that she’s the cream of the crop and will always end up on top.

past !!

With a silver spoon in her mouth the moment she was born, Georgette inherited wealth and status without any examples of how not to abuse it. Especially with her father as a role model. She wanted for nothing and always had eyes on her… so naturally the more she grew, the more spoiled she became. Georgette ran with the elite of New York City and made sure everyone knew it. Her lifestyle revolved around money and luxury, and it began to drastically corrupt both her attitude and her identity. At the end of the day, the only person she ever felt like she could let her guard down around was her mother. Now, Georgette’s mother was by no means a saint. She wasn’t always around and wasn’t necessarily the best role model either; but to Georgette she was everything. Her mother knew all her fears, all her dreams, all her doubts— she was almost like a sister. Their connection was undeniable… until Georgette’s father forced her to choose between love or money.  That decision, as well as everything surrounding her father’s affair, brought out the worst in Georgette. How could her father choose the maid over herself and her mother?? And on top of that, he was slowly trying to be a better person because of them? Why couldn’t he be better for his actual family? Georgette quickly went from spoiled to all out rotten. For the first time in her life she felt inferior, so she made her father (and everybody else) feel the same in return. Their father-daughter relationship was replaced by something more comparable to business partners, and eventually Georgette found herself shipped out to Elias with Jenny and Oliver scum and scummer.

future !!

My hopes for Georgette’s future is for her to embrace who she truly is away from the money, the attitude and the limelight. Georgette has big dreams and actual talent that she suppresses in fear that she will fall from the top of her sky-high pedestal. Deep down, she wants to be more than the person she pretends to be. She wants to apologize to her mother. She wants to have real friends who care about her instead of just her net worth. She wants to be recognized for more than just her beauty… I’d also love for her to eventually come to terms with Jenny and Oliver. Georgette would be a pretty kick ass older sister after she’s knocked down a few pegs!

taken connections !!

step sister/roommate: jenny foxworth

"cousin"/roommate: oliver cohen

past fling/hook up: freddy jones

friend: max dennison

wanted connections !! (open to plotting about anything!! these are just ideas!)

frenemy(ies) (someone she advertises as her bff and is with often but the friendship isn't genuine)

rival (nemesis; someone she's in constant competition with)

friend(s) (genuine friends she'd slowly open herself up to)

blackmailee (someone she's blackmailing to get what she wants)

blackmailer (someone who's blackmailing her to get what they want)

neighbor(s) (someone in her orbit due to them living in the same apartment building/street/neighborhood)

devil on her shoulder (the bad influence. someone she turns to when it's time to let loose, party, abuse some substances, etc.)

pretend friend (someone she attaches herself to due to their status, fame, money, connections, etc.)

protege (someone she tries to turn into a mini-georgette)

unlikely friend (someone she will deny she ever knows of their existence but secretly finds herself enjoying her time with)

[scentedchildnacho]

He said there are a lot of hungry people and they try but not enough.......so I told him they are trying to diversify people's understanding of religion and make scarce times things ladies always ordered to her field workers and students

Some of the hungry I don't feel bad for they do drugs they know people here don't want and marry Africans and annoy people by using air and water regulated differently and you have to go to indians and ask them to re open reform policy it's hey man you believe in God's and forced marriage so go to your house and leave my air space alone

Anyway cuny Fatima I found a book of prayer and thai alliances in Florida with legalization because people use to be comfortable and enjoy fasting and now fasting always feels like a beating

If it's men that have used boarding house systems a long time I don't feel bad for them it's get into your boarding house and leave me alone with your mean demonized spoiled behaviours because it's demonized to do

They are given and given and given and they keep wanting to practice a mafia idea of very bad God so I feel it's go to your boundary then and leave me alone

People use to like I'm not going to use the rest room today and now its always a problem

Anyway saint Brigette did show us the letter so the Pope thinks it's about reforestation............but to reinvigorate the idea of the native school as a public land

Is having to use the Indian.......appropriation act and it's having to qualify language and origin so

But the tong VA conservation ideas appear pretty okay with deciding they could want to stay here though white became the favored ideology to The World and the ten thousand year history so

Acorn meal....this could get demeanor and if your going to oat me then I will acorn you and sue you for treating sprains like it's a skin injury instead of reflexology

And if your going to corn me then I'm going to Mexican fruit you for treating drug consumption like mentalism instead of diabetes

But forestation could turn into plantations which might be good for say Alabama and Texas....instead of the rainforest

The attempts to put German colonial corn in Texas was mean and weird

The industry machines appeared more like frietal terrorists it's way louder and more irritating so I feel they should then have to replant the area with a plantation canopy because it's brutality requires exotics

Texas isn't a moderate prairie marsh ecology and the German colonialism isn't nice and charming like Wisconsin

Denton Texas has this fiery radiant red sunset that is more powerful then all his white lights combined if there is natural law like Isaiah it's you cannot be more important then nature and God

Isaiah but people should enjoy escaping the wilderness to cultivation though....in the wilderness abundance of everything and cultivation should be human emancipation rights though

The German colonials brought us robotics so I'm not chained to ox and cart and the union soldiers took their families and each their own a small royal house manor

Chicago sociology George simmel Gregor Mendel .....these though we're not french papers these were Austrian....

And if you won't stop salmon ing me I will turtle all the lakes

Black elk speaks and I will start calling the elk camel and refuse to get my ass bounced on a horse when I could rock gently

The Native school....there are still china schools in Wisconsin near the casino so it would be having to look into the Greek complexes....and starting to re china them as Wisconsin still equitably divides public school so many whites so many Asians

Then there would have to be comparative antiquities in high schools which use to only be private to do

The Roman school of football baseball or basketball when more lines could have been drawn on the fields and courts

Fatima saik

Oriental the school now it's about the shadow of the West instead of white

Edward....how a disparate people become one

Edward said we will all be one people....these things under Korean policy were not separate my high school priorly was not separate

What does a white person look like.....I don't think she is laotian or Vietnamese I think she was white but went to that room for lunch

That's the folks it's allowing these new civilities to gather with white communities and that's how now arrives instead of history

My mother and her friends were very sunny dark exotic people but we called fair and different from asiatics?

At church they did explain that tattoo bar images are like their chosen ladies and they are like with the church and they didn't want generationally for them to be Catholic school girls so

The veterans allowed me cross dressing because they didn't want me to be too beat up or get stalked into the muslim world

They didn't want me to have to wear a burka to be modest

Uhm my lady if it's Wisconsin would not mark up her skin with tattoos but wels synod is not elca

They are more German populations affiliated with the church would drop too dramatically because congregants thought they had to be too good for people so

Because beguine the lady may show me to stop feeling too passive

Fish.....fishing I never fish....

I remember diving

Lobster in the Pacific......just go get that out of there

I guess people stole the kellogs company and have claimed we have to change to systems we weren't raised on........I don't know I think their a mean horney God and she has to learn tattoos or they do it

I notice their God to that type of reefer is a superior male God.....and they stalk homeless women because they know I take virginal vows and they want the appearance and clemency of first marriage and yet advertise themselves as very used people

Some of the men do stalk me and I tolerate it because their pedophiles and if it wasn't my innocence it would be a minor but they want to feel better then me and to orate their reefer message to me and I as a submissive already have dominant ideologies that leave me alone if ideology has become ranked

That's what's annoying and stupid about them they want to steal rights to rank ideology then they want to be around their submissives all the time when we have decided that this is about computers

I just hate smoked marijuana right now I just can't understand when it's now they have so much legality and will still smoke marijuana and I just hate hate that smell

[ritware1850]

Reposted from @mckeeculpepper Years ago while dissertating, I saw this portrait of this fine brotha while walking the esplinade at Juilliard in Manhattan. I was captivated and ran in the book store to see who he was. It's not often you see paintings of brothas looking like French aristocrats--- for obvious reasons. In buying the book, I learned his name is Chevalier de Saint Georges. Née Joseph Boulogne. After reading the book that graced his portrait, I went down the rabbit hole and the more I fell the more in awe I was of his prodigious talent. My husband and I ordered all of his recorded music through the University of Minnesota library exchange. There were many nights of us writing to the compositions of this amazing man and wondering aloud to each other how in the hell the world didn't know his name. What became soooo distrubing was as we came across more reading and uncovering his history, we found a name that is not his. He is not, and I repeat, NOT "Black Mozart". In fact there are multiple musical alliterations where some musicologists argue that Mozart borrowed from HIS compositions. YEAH. You see Mozart actually lived in the same housing as Joseph and was a younger impressionable composser at the time. Given Boulogne's status as an 18th century rock star, he, Mozart, swagga jacked Boulogne's music. Ummm yeah, you read that right. In fact, there are just whole passages of music in which Mozart "quotes" the Chevalier de Saint Georges almost verbatim. If you don't believe me check out these two pieces: 1. Boulogne violin concerto (Op. 7, No. 1) from 1777 Versus Mozart’s K. 364, WRITTEN THE FOLLOWING YEAR!!!! ( I am clearly yelling). SOOOO...BLACK Mozart my ass. How about White De Saint Georges? You see how messed up this is?!! Give the man his propers!!!!! AND 'Iainteeena start' (translation, I ain't even started) on the Chevalier's connection to Alexandre Dumas' Three Muskateers. Ummm yeah. Ya'll ain't ready.. BY the way the #Kilian store is on the street named after Boulogne in Paris. Chile...don't ask me how I know. #chevalier #chevalierdesaintgeorges #josephboulogne #blackhistory #know your history #paris #alexandredumas #Dumas #three https://www.instagram.com/p/Cm_upGzuUmG/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[doingthedirtydishes]

Jettisoned layover in Maine during Covid-19 crisis; Surviving scarcely on lobster rolls, whoopee pies and IPA.

I am grateful the universe guided my way to Maine for summer. There are a lot of locations for jetsam to wash ashore but Portland sure resulted in as serendipitous a coast as any to land. A reserved melancholic state filled with boundless Subarus and massive white pine forest, where I could spend my summer frolicking about in nature, or so I thought. As I soon discovered je ne sais quoi, it was a state of ‘Maniacs’ who know much less about survival in the bush and much more about fine cuisine and craft beers. I was in the right place; there are no mistakes in life.

More on Maine in a minute, but first an update on the wags from Queens, NYC: Bart and his pious compatriots in Pennsylvania (owners of the Hilton Garden Inn at JFK, NYC) provided round two of comedic relief after their abhorrent treatment of me at their hotel while stranded poor and homeless in NYC. As if their first response to asking me to leave their hotel, under a discriminatory (non-existent) 14 day stay policy, was not humorous enough, the second reply through their attorney wins the ‘almost Darwin’ medal of honor, a world-class pisser.

In my second week at the hotel from hell, while attempting to transfer from the toilet to my wheelchair, the grab-bar I was using for support broke off from the wall, leaving me to find support on a hard tile floor. Their lawyer, in his greatest vomit of jester twaddle, attempting to make me look bad, as vacuous his basis and unsound his argument, however sophomoric and ill-prepared his research and statement, replied to the NY State AG’s complaint by insinuating: 1. It was a made-up story; 2. It was revenge against their ‘raved about’ General Manager, Tracy Kass; and 3. I intentionally caused the grab-bar to break off from the wall. Bartholomew, please send me a package of what your Lancaster crew feeds you for breakfast – evidently reality changing.

It is hard to believe such saints still exist in this world but notwithstanding their holiness, I will address these delusional saboteur swines who treat loyal Hilton customers like trash then cower and hide behind a half-assed inept lawyer who I would not hire to defend my trespass dog. Allow me to pull back the curtain for you: 1. Your hotel clearly partakes in discriminatory practices – easily verified through other guests; and 2. I could have called an ambulance, sued and definitely walked with a settlement, akin to your ilk – but I did not, I chose the high road. To what end?!

None of your attorney’s baseless accusations are worthy a reply except only to rebut: 1. Permit me take away the function and operation of your legs and see how well you can stand up to pull a screwed-in bar, almost one meter above the floor, from the wall and 2. You first could start off by complying with Federal ADA and NY State bathroom building code(s) – your grab-bar was not mounted to wall studs. It was anchored into sheetrock, unable to handle load – sure to get you multiple city infractions upon [further] inspection; and assuredly, possible future litigation.  

Hilton Honors has still yet to sufficiently address the situation or provide an adequate reply. They recently reported earnings to Wall Street, Q2 77% revenue decline. As well, Hilton has had to close 1000 hotels and has experienced a 56% decline in room revenue resulting from Covid-19. And this is how you respond to true-blue customers – silence? What are you so busy doing that customer service has fallen off the radar?  One might think they would choose to treat their Diamond members a teensy-weensy better – but do not hold your breath. J.W. awaits my return.

As I mentioned in my first blog concerning being stuck in NYC under Covid-19 crisis, it did not take long in the car before my attitude and energy were on the rise. As my good friend Elena drove out of NYC, up Interstate 95 towards Maine, the excitement of visiting The Pine Tree State was palpable. We arrived into Portland later than expected. George at the Black Elephant Hostel was gracious enough to provide me an emergency number I could call to be let in. Safely ensconced by the cozy fire, cup of tea in hand, I was where I needed to be. Puff, puff, pass.  

For the next eight days my home was the Black Elephant Hostel, a boutique hostel with a bohemian savoir-faire, owned and operated by a saucy local entrepreneur and former New Jersey native, previously in the horse business, Heather. George kindly reserved me a room that was ADA compliant. The bathroom in the room was exceptionally spacious, a real treat to a traveler in a wheelchair. As well, the kitchen was drafted by architects with the injured in mind; designed pragmatic and utilitarian, sunlight abound, a great place to congregate for mid-afternoon tea.

Aside from a superb kitchen you will also find a delightful general room with comfortable chairs, a table and a layout couch for a relaxing fireside chat or read and an outside patio and lawn area for joining other guests for a smoke or drink or chat. Marijuana is legal in Maine – becoming fully legal for retail sale in October, 2020. The outdoor garden seating area is a great place to meet with friends over a joint and discussion of transcendentalism. Albeit a cheeky owner, the staff, most especially George and Isabelle, was super helpful and caring, always willing to assist.

My over-confident exuberance was quickly replaced with worry and anxiety as summer housing was not panning out as originally thought. Housing is at a minimum in Portland. Real estate well over priced, is in a bubble. A few places did become available but then quickly turned south as one informed me the roommate no longer wanted me as a roommate (only after informed about my injury) and the other did not want my wheelchair banging up his thirty thousand dollars in new upgrades to his double-wide trailer. Anyway, probably prudent I do not appear on Springer.

Was coming to Maine the right choice? Of late, with housing options once again slipping out of reach, and money a wee bit short, it appeared inexorably I had placed myself in a worse off situation than in NYC. In spite of all successive otherwise invincible obstacles, I remained overly brimming with bold perseverance and infinite hope. What would I do now? Where would I go, sleep? Staying in a hostel was surely not the answer. It was expensive; not a long term solution.  

After receiving some unsolicited compassionate help from a few friends, I was able to get a room at the local Hilton in order to reassess the situation and come up with a new plan. It soon became clear that I was in need of additional assistance; I had just become poor and homeless in Maine. It is similar to being poor and homeless in NYC but surrounded with more congenial people and prettier scenery. After five torturous days of having no-where to sleep I was ready to give up.

However, something deep inside told me it would be ok, that this unfortunate situation too shall pass. As if the universe was testing me to make sure I truly had given up control of the wheel of life. The lesson(s) must always be worked through and understood before one can advance past the incessant hurdles of life onto increased mental capacity and psychological resolve. As I state in my book, Unbreakable Mind: One first must pass through darkness before they can enter into the light; it is a journey, not something you can order up from the fast-food universe. There is no free ice cream in the world – all is well-earned, graced upon you – endowed by your higher-self.  

The Vedic astrology reading, a gift from Sunita, I had from Nepal in June was coming true: I was warned I would face four months of hardship, having to rely on others for my survival: Doing the Dirty Dishes of life – only to emerge into the shining light whence soon thereafter. So I was now in the thick of the fight, in the middle of battle. As it turned out I did not qualify for any general assistance in Maine. Apparently the $178 in my checking account was not broke enough. The YMCA manager was able to find me a room but sharing one bathroom with forty other men on one floor, with my injury’s requirements, and its high costs, would not have been feasible.

After two weeks of being bounced around Portland like a pachinko ball in a Tokyo parlor it was time to give in and stay at a hotel. Portland is not a cheap city for lodging – and already suffers from a housing shortage. The manager at the Hilton did not want me to leave to another Hilton branded property for an extended stay so he offered me an amazeballs daily rate [to stay at his location]. It ended up being cheaper to stay there per night than the local hostel. I gladly accepted the deal. Vernon, Tim, Gudrun, Stephanie, Les, Al, Seonye and all staff were absolutely first-rate.

Once settled in and feeling a bit of wanderlust, it was time to explore what Maine had to offer. The most northeastern U.S. State sated with stunning ocean and lakes, craggy rocky coastline, limitless verdant forest, winding mountains and rivers, marvelous lighthouses and ripe maritime history, it is an outdoor wonderland – loaded with supernatural beauty at every new rocky cove. Our day trip to Sebago Lake with Joe, our new friend from Park Slope, Brooklyn, whom we met in the local hostel, was a proper introduction to the outdoor allure and natural grandeur of Maine.

One day Elena decided to take me on a road trip, a magic trail replete with drinks, food and breathtaking panorama. We ventured north 160 km to Camden, famous for its high mountainous peek, scenic vistas and gorgeous views of the harbor and surrounding landscape. We had stopped on our way into town at a local oyster farm, and along with the healthy snacks, pita and hummus Elena packed, we had ourselves a smorgasbord atop the hill, whilst the sun set over the harbor. After some mouthwatering local seafood and delish beers in town, we were off back to Portland.

One weekend an old friend, Sunita, from Boston, visited with her daughter Hazel. It was a typical summer day in Maine, bright azure sky overflowing with cotton-ball clouds, awaiting outdoor exploration. We ventured to the Head Light Lighthouse, just across Casco Bay at Fort Williams Park. There was a local restaurant’s lobster roll stand just up the hill – wow. No doubt I agree that roadside stands serve the best rolls in Maine. On another day we visited Old Orchard Beach and all its tourist fanfare. On our way home we stopped at Bayley’s Seafood for their NE Clam Chowder and a shrimp roll; also stopping at Clambake Seafood Restaurant for locally fried Maine clams. The best “Clam Chowda” and tastiest fried clams I ever savored, respectively.

A new friend, Rita, from Brasil, the following weekend, invited me out for lobster rolls and oysters. We decided to spend the day at Pine Point, a breezy back-bay sand-grass filled marshy delight where delectable food and drink are served at any number of “famous” restaurants. We settled for the local empire of Bayley’s – this time visiting their Pound Shack, on the water. Social distancing in place, masks off, it was a splendid day of hoppy IPAs, freshly shucked oysters with briny liquor and spicy peel-n-eat shrimp. Next we plan to meet in Rio de Janeiro.

The list of out-of-this-world foodstuffs, pioneered by distinctive carpet-bagging restaurateurs with all the right ingredients to make your taste buds pop with excitement, is inexhaustible. The square pizza at Slab Sicilian Street Food is one of a kind, worthy of review. The Thirsty Pig has the most unique menu of house-made hot dogs [with toppings] and sausages, paired with local beers. After sampling lobster rolls at Red’s Eats in Camden, the lighthouse stand, High Roller, Bayley’s, and one upscale restaurant, Scales, the best was High Roller in downtown Portland.

The local bar scene is as bustling as the food scene, with many locations sharing both honors. The East Bayside district of Portland, with its old emptied-out capacious industrial warehouses and expansive lots, has been turned into an extensive neighborhood of eclectic flavorful micro-breweries. Kris and Marty AKA baby tiger (his 14 yr old Shiatsu) visited one Saturday from New Hampshire. We selected Austin Street Brewery – perfect for sitting outdoor with friends. We ended up pairing with Sarah and Gabe, on their second date, which were sitting at the table next to ours. Later we met Miguel at Rosie’s Restaurant and Pub, where food and drink is served late into the night. And in a town where most places close at 9pm, it is a refreshing godsend.

If ever there was a place to be stuck for the summer, Maine wins the award. Portland has quickly moved onto the top three list of my favorite small US cities for food and beer. A charming and enchanting town, filled with a mix of artistic and liberal personalities, a feeling of unrestricted freedom to expand inside & outside the self, packed with an endless number of satiated artisanal restaurants and drinking establishments, it is certainly a place to visit with an open stomach and heart – without fail, both will be better off after a short visit. They will thank you tremendously.

With Europe unquestionably now in the rearview mirror, as the world is mired in a continuing international health and economic crisis, it begets the million dollar question: where off to next?

Stay tuned!

CLICK HERE for PART I of Covid-19 story: Stranded in NYC, JFK.

Travel Blog: Click here.

Spiritual Blog: Click here.

Book: Unbreakable Mind. (Print, Kindle, Audio)

Doing The Dirty Dishes Podcast: Watch or listen to episodes and subscribe: Spotify, Apple Podcast, Buzzsprout.  Also available on Google Podcast, iHeart, Tunein, Amazon Alexa and Stitcher. 

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Travel Blog links: Covid-19 stranded in NYC JFK and Maine – also travel stories on Ireland, Spain, Sweden,  Belgium, Iceland, Colombia (Espanol version), Amsterdam, Germany, New Hampshire, TN and NYC.

Personal Website link where you can also find my book, photos of my travels and updates on current projects.  

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