#yes i just discovered the seinfeld one

[nicejewishcharactershowdown]

Nice Jewish Character Showdown 2023 -- Round One Eliminations

Well folks, the first round of the 2023 event has concluded, and 16 hopefuls have been taken out of the running for this year's crown. While we wait for the polls to go live for round two, let's take a second to debrief with those contenders, and break down what makes them such Nice Jewish Characters.

Match One Elimination: James Wilson, House MD Apologies to the House MD fans who kept trying to push the vote in your guy's favor, I honestly did not expect 9 to have such a high turnout (I'll elaborate on his inclusion another time). I'm going to make my way around to watching this show eventually I promise, in the meantime all I can reference to validate his Judaism is the textual reference to his Judaism in dialogue, the enthusiasm from my Jewish mutuals, and his entry on Jew or Not Jew (which, although considerably dated, was a popular site for me and my Hebrew School peers to browse between classes).

Match Two Elimination: Susan Ivanova, Babylon 5 While I haven't watched Babylon 5, I was pleasantly surprised to discover just how Jewish this Trek-adjacent show is, at least, in terms of canonicity. The second in command of the titular ship, Ivanova is textually Ashkenazi, Russian specifically. I can't speak on specifics since I, again, haven't watched the show, but it sounds like her relationship with her ancestry is tied significantly into her personal plot arc, as she reconnects with it over the seasons.

Match Three Elimination: Avigdor, Yentl Oh, Mandy Patinkin, the communal zeyde of the Jewish internet. While Avigdor may not be the Nicest of Jewish Characters, we gotta remember dramatic context! And yes, the absolute Gender of Yentl is no small factor in his popularity. I don't regret the picture I used, but I'm sure he would have had a bit of a swing vote if I used the picture of him wet and shirtless. Ah, well. Not like this is the first time Yentl's been snubbed for awards season.

Match Four Elimination: Samwise Gamgee, Lord of the Rings Yes, the books have the unfortunate way they've reflected on antisemitic stereotypes with the portrayal of the dwarves. But when you look at the hobbits, don't they feel like citizens of a shtetl? Aren't you filled with the warmth of shabbos when you think about a hobbit hole? And when thinking about Samwise's unending hope for good, even in the darkest parts of the journey, are you not reminded of something?

Match Five Elimination: George Costanza, Seinfeld Yeah I knew this one was going to infuriate some people. George Costanza, you textually Jewish in every way but literal prince, you are the perfect example of the transitive property of Jewish media (Jason Alexander has been quoted as saying that Costanza is Jewish because he's being played by a Jewish actor). Doing readings on invisible Jewish representation through the lens of Seinfeld (and the associated eras of television) is FASCINATING, btw.

Match Six Elimination: Schmidt, New Girl A very Jewish cast and crew brought this 2010's icon to our screens, and while the humor might not have always been the kindest to his Jewish identity, it's no surprise that he has such a continuing popularity within the former viewing audience. Someone get him a cookie, please?

Match Seven Elimination: Cher Horowitz, Clueless Written by a Jew, directed by a Jew, played by a Jew, Cher Horowitz is a great example of the transitive property of Jewish media. Plus, with a last name like Horowitz and a lawyer father, there are plenty of reasons to interpret the 90's darling as such. This Kveller article is full of fun facts about the Jewish background of the production!

Match Eight Elimination: Barbara Millicent Roberts, Barbie Watch Tiny Shoulders if you don't think Barbie belonged in this showdown. Barbara Millicent Roberts, you've been so popularized and Americanized that we've forgotten your roots, my darling! Ruth Handler, Barbie's creator, comes from a distinctly Jewish background, and her family's Ellis Island history is a good way of looking at the way Barbie's been assimilated. Sure she's got her Christmas-y ties, but most Christmas media comes from us anyways, so I think she can get a pass.

Match Nine Elimination: The Baudelaires, A Series of Unfortunate Events Okay, I'll admit it, I never read ASOUE. It freaked me out too much as a kid, and I've never circled back to it. But it's been on the back of my mind for a while, and now that I'm aware of just how Jewish the source material is, I'm this close to looking up the audiobooks on Libby. This is a step above the transitive property of Jewish media, this is textual. I guess it's characteristic for the Baudelaires to lose, but they can be comforted in how close the vote was.

Match Ten Elimination: Tommy Pickles, Rugrats So I grew up with public access television, and when I finally got cable it felt a bit like I'd missed the boat on Rugrats, age-group wise. But seeing the VHS cases on the library shelves of my synagogue, I always knew that show was a good case of Jewish representation. The Rugrats was revolutionary in their central Judaism in children's media: not just giving it to a side character for special episodes, but giving it to the main character and spending ample time discussing it. Consider putting the Passover or Hannukah specials into your holiday circulation.

Match Eleven Elimination: The Strilondes, Homestuck Somewhat surprising to me, but not really since they lost round one last time, the Strilondes have been taken out of the running. What makes Dave Strider and Rose Lalonde Jewish? Siblings through manipulation of genetic cloning, we witness a Very Jewish Wedding in the Snapchat Credits Sequence to Homestuck, where Rose and her wife, Kanaya, are in the center of a horah dance, lifted above the crowd in chairs (here's the timestamp). Besides that, Homestuck can be interpreted through a very Jewish lens (at least to me, someone who has a John Egbert statuette on their bookshelf). Plus, Homestuck has an answer to the Great Frog Debate (their answer is the biggest frog possible).

Match Twelve Elimination: Frankenstein('s Monster), Frankenstein Sorry Adam, I know losing twice in a row is hard, but to be fair you DID go up against werewolves last time. Why is Adam Frankenstein('s Monster) Jewish? He has a complicated relationship with the concept of a higher power (and in his case, a complicated familial relationship with his own creator). Plus, when I look at him, I see the most famous golem in pop culture. Jewish Frankenstein supremacy <3 (Oh, and while I'm thinking about it, a general plug for the book version of Monster High, published in 2010, which has a VERY Jew-coded interpretation of the titular monsters, imo.)

Match Thirteen Elimination: The Baker, Into The Woods Musical theater is inherently Jewish, so is it any surprise that a Sondheim character made it to the showdown? Into the Woods is a masterpiece, and when you look at it through a Jewish lens it gets even more so -- especially in the second act. The Baker is one of several characters in the show that really become aware of the constraints of their fairy tale lives, and choose to circumvent them. I'm going to restrain myself from discussing it more since the entire original cast recording is available to watch here, and it's one of my favorite musicals ever so I'd just get incoherent in further analysis if you haven't seen the source material.

Match Fourteen Elimination: Will Byers, Stranger Things I knew this was going to happen on the #CecilSweep website, but it still hurts a little bit to see Will Byers lose with such a sweep. Maybe it's the fact the Byers house has readily available Christmas lights. Why was he a contestant? Well, observing the transitive property of Jewish media (as discussed earlier), Noah Schnapp AND Winona Ryder's Judaism is more than enough to validate a Jewish reading of the Byers family -- in my mind, they're a mixed household, and kept celebrating Xmas after Lonnie left because the kids grew up with it (plus, they're in Indiana in the 80's, so...)

Match Fifteen Elimination: The Lorax, The Lorax Did you go to Hebrew School in the United States if you didn't watch or read The Lorax for Tu B'ishvat? I mentioned the VHS library at my synagogue earlier, and this tape was a standard on the wheelie box tv set-up, often used to distract the younger kids who would get bored at the High Holy Days services. He's just a lil' man who loves the trees, that's a mensch to me.

Match Sixteen Elimination: Worf, Star Trek: The Next Generation I feel like I have to apologize for putting the two Trek characters against each other up front. It's another place where my textual knowledge slips a bit, so when I found out just how Jewish Worf is I was pleasantly surprised. Trek has a very odd relationship with just how Jewish it has been since conception (thank you, Nimoy!) , so for Worf's parents to be all but declared to be Jewish is like. You could have just made them Jewish. Why didn't you make them Jewish (we know why).

[johnconstantinejld]

Batman Death of a Clown

Five times already this week she has seen me, pale skin illuminated by our cheap electricity, roll up my sleeve, slap a vein up and inject a drug. All the while this happened, concern for the patient increased.

‘Which is it today?’ She asks.

‘Morphine. Mixed with a concoction of my own.’ I reply. ‘Would you care for a bit?’

‘No!’ She snapped.

‘Touchy.’ I reply with a snigger. ‘I thought you were a friend.’

‘Speaking as a doctor, and as a friend, I advise you to cease it.’

‘I’d always take your advice, Harley, but when you fall into a vat of acid, it does not do wonders for one’s kidneys. It hurts to urinate. It hurts to shit. It hurts to jack it. The morphine kills the pain. I still need the drug. Batman will put more pain on me once more. He is the best customer a comedian could have. Comes back, night after night. Why couldn’t he heckle me? Comedians hate hecklers. And you were a psychologist. Not a medic.’

I’ve lost everything. Todd was cleansed. I’m broke. I’m hated. I don’t even fucking produce sperm anymore. Now, my last associate is leaving for the last time to go off grid.

‘What is it, Doctor Quinn? The porn film job? Or Superbabes, the restaurant?’

‘The restaurant. And the film offer was for adult entertainment, not porn.’

‘Same thing.’

A pain in my side and my chest. I won’t survive the night. Doctor Isley’s syrups have ceased working for me. I don’t think she made them for me, anyway. I’d go to the beach, but we’re Gotham. We don’t have that. It is very relaxing to watch waves go in and out. I watch it all go away. Bats should try it.

‘It’s bad medicine to beat out your troubles.’ Harley says from the hall.

She leaves. She will never come again. In the garden, the flowers that have my own venom inside them have bloomed without success. The intended result, of spreading a poison over the city so that everyone has a good laugh, did not work. I got a broken nose for my trouble, and I rubbed the blood over my lips. Maybe she’ll live with Isley, out in a forest somewhere like two lovebirds. I’d really love that.

What’s new in Arkham? That Englishman Tetch is going on and on about Wonderland. Hey, when I kidnap someone, at least I don’t dress them up as children. He’s a paedophile, you know. A murderous one at that. I made that Jason Todd’s smile nice and big, but at least I don’t dress underage girls as Alice.

Oh, and the Mad Hatter is never called such in the novel. He’s just a Hatter. Failed on page one of ‘How to be a Criminal.’

Moron.

I’m dying. This is it? I don’t get the final show? Fire my agent HAHAHAHAHA! Pengers doesn’t have any word on a cure coming through, and Black Mask put out a hit on me. Me! A guy who was in business when he was in diapers! No showdown. Just a pale, white-faced, grease-painted man alone in a room with crackling light and asbestos in the walls.

It’s not worth laughing.

Why did I do it? Did I go on because I enjoyed it? Do comedians enjoy their job? Round and round, making observations or bellowing out jokes? I like Billy Connolly and Robin Williams, actually. Seinfeld was not my style. I liked loud. I wanted that one last audience member to laugh. I only got it once, in that ‘Give Gordon One Bad Day’ thing. From then on, I got beaten. The other members of that little League threw heckles at the man on the stage.

If you want my come back, talk to your mother. Oh wait, none of us have a mother.

Formally speaking, I hereby request my brain be removed so that it can autopsied and discover the cause for my actions.

I used to think we were like two peas in a pod, me and Bats. But I guess we could have been two boys on the street, getting up to no good. We both run from the law, and I guess I ran a little slower. Yes, sharing the streets with a boy who’ll grow to become a policeman. He ran home and maybe got a slap around the ear but a good meal and a lecture that put him on the straight and narrow. I got caught and put on the rocky road. It’s a well-lit road, but slippery, and I kept going down it towards hell. Harley used to be called sociopathic, like me. Now she shows sympathy and compassion, something sociopaths can’t do.

No. He was the boy who played by himself in the big mansion and is now giving back to society. Parents didn’t approve of gutter snipes.

A shadow appears. Is this another hallucination from the drug or is it reality? A woman, pale-skinned like myself, lovely dark hair. An ankh around her neck and an eye of Horus on her face. Going to need to think of last words.

So this is it, huh?

No, no, no…

A final laugh? All I do is cough.

Come on, think man!

Fade to black.

[dukereviewstv]

Duke Reviews TV: The Orville 1x05 Pria

Hello, I'm Andrew Leduc And Welcome To Duke Reviews TV, Where Today We're Continuing Our Look At The Orville By Looking At Episode 5 Of Season One, Pria...

This Episode Finds Ed Falling For The Orville's Latest Guest After The Crew Rescues An Attractive Captain, Played By...

Ah! Cypher! Where's Dominic Torretto When You Need Him?! Somebody Please Kill Her!!!

Ok, If You Read My Duke Reviews Review On The Fate Of The Furious, You Know That I Loathed Charlize Theron's Character In That Movie But I Don't Hold Grudges Against Actors Or Actresses For Playing Roles Whether They're Horrible Characters Or Not...

It Was Just Worth A Joke Because That Character Was (And Still Is Apparently) As Horrible As Another Character In Season 3 Of The Orville Which I'll Talk About When We Get To Season 3...

From Her Stranded Ship, But When The Crew Finds Devices That Belong To Her All Over The Ship, It's Revealed That She May Have An Ulterior Motive...

What Does This Woman Want With The Orville?

Let's Find Out As We Watch Pria...

Our Episode Starts On The Bridge Where The Crew Of The Orville Are Watching Of All The Shows...Seinfeld...

(Imitating Jerry Seinfeld) And What Is The Deal With Bortus? He Is Emotionaless To The Point I Think The Only Thing That Would Get Him Excited Is Looking At A Wall For 2 Hours, What's Up With That?!

After Isaac Questions The Logic Of Humor, They Get A Distress Signal From The Atrias Star System, Once The Orville Arrives, They Receive A Message From A Captain Pria Lavesque, Who Is On A Comet Headed Toward A Nearby Sun...

Realizing That The Ship's Tractor Beam Could Compromise The Hull Integrity Of Pria's Ship, So, Ed, Gordon And Alara Board A Shuttle To Rescue Pria Before The Comet Breaks Up...

With Only 2 Minutes Left, They Rescue Pria (With The Help Of Alara's Super Strength) In Time But The Gravity Of The Sun Starts To Pull Them In, Luckily However The Orville Uses It's Tractor Beam To Get Everyone On The Shuttle Back To The Ship, Safe And Sound...

Taking Her To Sickbay, Pria Tells Ed, Kelly, Alara And Claire That She Was Returning From A Mining Expedition In The Matar System When Ran Into A Krill Battle Cruiser, However When She Tried To Outrun It, It Drained Her Ship's Power...

But When She Discovered A Dysonium Deposit In The Comet, She Landed To Get The Fuel Needed To Power Her Ship But Her Plan Backfired...

Assigning Pria Quarters On The Ship Until They Can Drop Her Off At The Nearest Union Base, She Admits That She Could Use A Drink After Everything That's Happened, So, Ed Invites Pria To A Senior Staff Party In His Quarters..

Later On The Bridge Gordon Plays A Practical Joke On Issac By Taping Mr. Potato Head Pieces On His Face..

Isaac's Response:

And Yes, Issac Does Get Even By Cutting Off Gordon's Leg...

Later At The Party, Pria And Ed Find They Have Some Stuff In Common To The Point That She Visits Him After The Party And Kisses Him On The Cheek...

The Next Day, As Ed Gives Pria A Tour Of The Ship, Kelly Discovers No Record Of Pria In The Mining Consortium's Files, Telling Ed This, He Doesn't Believe Her Stating That Their Files Are Sloppy And That People Come And Go From There All Time...

However, Kelly Thinks Otherwise Believing That Ed Shouldn't Give Her Access To Their Systems Until They Can Confirm Her Identity. Wanting Alara To Assign Someone To Her, Ed Of Course Says No (Cause He's Thinking With His Dick) But He Will Ask Her About The Manifest...

But This Instead Leads Kelly To Ask Alara To Search Pria's Quarters As A Favor To Her, She Tells Kelly She'll Do It Only If Kelly's Concern Is Purely In The Line Of Duty And Doesn't Have To Do With The Fact That Ed Possibly Likes Her...

Saying That It Is Definitely Purely In The Line Of Duty, They Investigate Pria's Room Only To Find A Metal Box Under Pria's Bed, However, When They Attempt To Scan It, They're Unable To Penetrate It With Their Scanners...

Hearing A Nearby Door Open, They Place The Box Back In The Place Where Pria Had It, Just As She Enters The Room, Telling Pria That They Were Investigating A Possible Radiation Leak, Kelly And Alara Leave...

Telling Ed About What They Found, He Doesn't Buy It And Believes That What They Found Could Be A Belt Buckle If Anything...

Ed, If A Device Of That Size Is A Belt Buckle Then I Am Mickey Mouse!

Despite Ed Placing A Reprimand On Alara's Record, Kelly Tells Ed The Truth Saying That He's Not Being Objective On This And Is Letting Her Charisma Cloud The Fact That Pria's Not What She Seems To Be...

And Kelly Is Right To Do That, Cause Like She Tells Ed, It's Her Job As 2nd In Command, To Point That Out Especially When It Affects His Duty To Do His Job...

But The Arguing Eventually Stops When The Ship Comes Across A Concentrated Dark Matter Storm, Luckily, Pria Enters And Tells Them That She Can Get Them Out Of It As She Encountered The Same Thing On A Mining Expedition To Pollux 5...

Suggesting That They Adjust Their Weapons Array To Flood The Area With Neutronized Axiom Particles, They Do Exactly That But Unfortunately, Gordon Is Unable To Navigate Out Of There Safely...

However, Pria Takes Over And Manages To Get Them Out Of There Safely With Only Damage To Their Communications Array, Realizing That They'll Have To Make Repairs, Pria Suggests Visiting A Consortium Base That's One Day Away From Where They Are...

Plus They Can Drop Her Off So, It's A Win Win, Despite Kelly Not Liking The Idea Of Pria Dictating Their Course And Ignoring The Fact That She Just Saved Their Butts So On This I'd Say Kelly Is In The Wrong Here As Pria Has Earned The Crew's Trust By Doing That...

However, To Be Fair...

Later, It Would Be Revealed That Kelly Was Right, So, I'd Say Both Sides Are Right In This Particular Matter...

Taking Pria To The Simulator, Ed Eventually Kisses Her And The 2 End Up Having Sex Despite Ed Wanting To Take It Slow At First..

But Hey If I Had The Chance To Bang Charlize Theron Knowing How Sexy She Was In Reindeer Games, The Devil's Advocate And Snow White And The Huntsman, I'd Probably Do It...

The Next Day, After Gordon Discovers That Issac Cut Off His Leg, Ed And Kelly Head Down To Engineering To Discover The Device That Kelly Saw In Pria's Room In The Navigational Conduits...

Asking If It Could Be Removed, It Turns Out It's In There Tight And In Order To Get It Out They'd Have To Blast It Which Could Damage The Ship's Main Relay, Contacting Alara They Head To Pria's Quarters, Where Pria Tells Them The Truth...

She's A Time Traveler From About 400 Years Into The Future And When The Orville Originally Encountered That Dark Matter Storm The Ship Was Supposed To Be Destroyed And Everyone On It Was Supposed To Die...

Getting A Call From Lamar, Pria's Device Has Taken Control Of The Ship Placing It On A New Course To A Nearby Wormhole Where The Crew Of The Orville Will Continue To Live Their Lives In The Future While She Sells The Ship To The Highest Bidder...

Talking With Pria Alone, Ed Wonders If Everything Between Them Was A Lie But Pria Tells Him That Not Everything Was A Lie And That She Did Have Feelings For Him But He Doubts It And Tells Her To Go To Hell...

Telling Kelly A Billion Times That She Was Right And He Was Wrong, They Try To Work On A Way To Remove The Device, They Try Blasting It, And Using Isaac To Remove It But The Blast Doesn't Work, And When Isaac Attempts To Remove It, It Completely Shuts Him Down...

Calling Gordon To His Station (Even Though His Leg Isn't Fully Generated) They Arrive At The Wormhole, With Pria Teleporting In, Ed Begs Her To Give Him Back Control Of The Orville, But She Makes A Valid Point, Stating That They Died And If She Was To Let Them Go She'd Be Altering The Timeline...

After Going Through The Wormhole, They Confront A Binzian Ship But Being Downloaded Into The Ship's Computers, Issac Manages To Get Control Of The Ship Back So They Can Get Out Of There While Kelly Deals With Pria...

With The Ship Returning To Their Own Time, Issac Returned To His Own Body And Pria In The Brig, Ed Apologizes To Kelly, Promising To Never Doubt Her Again Before Talking To Pria One Last Time, She Tries To Convince Ed That If The Orville Remains In The Timeline, Then History Will Be Altered...

But Ed Says That's Her Problem Not Theirs, Before Ordering The Bridge To Open Fire On The Wormhole, Which Not Only Destroys It But Sends Pria Back To Where She Belongs...

And That's Pria And It Gave Charlize Theron A Better Guest Starring Role Than Liam Neeson Had...

The Story Was Interesting For What It Was, There's Obviously Chemistry Between MacFarlane And Theron So I Got To Applaud Them For Using That As An Advantage Throughout The Episode, I Also Thought Some Scenes Were Pretty Funny Especially Gordon Sticking Mr. Potato Head Pieces On Issac's Face

So Either Way, I Say See It...

Till Next Time, This Is Duke, Signing Off

[chattingwiththelightkeeper]

Talking Terms

Maybe it is just me but it seems like there is a ton of misused and/or misunderstood lifestyle terms out there floating around as of late. If I might be so bold as to suggest it might be time for a refresher class on lifestyle terms. I apologize in advance. I am not going to cover every single lifestyle term because I am not named Webster or dictionary. Although I have been called a dick before, so maybe dickionary? Anyway, this is not meant to be a definitive guide to lifestyle vocabulary words but I just want to chat about a few which I feel are being misused or misunderstood.

While I am not a big TV watcher, I do have one cheesy reality show that I watch and that is Discovery’s Deadliest Catch. On the show, the late Captain Phil Harris had a saying “There's three types of people in the world: There's people that watch stuff happen, there's people that make things happen or people who wonder what the hell happened.” So this quote has nothing to do with the lifestyle but many people, especially vanillas or internet dominants sometimes think that the last group, the what the hell happened subset, is what an unattached submissive’s life is like. I believe there are people out there who are submissive to life, spend their lives in perpetual wonder of what the hell happened but this is not what I feel is a D/S submissive. In my opinion, a submissive is a strong, capable person, who prefers to be lead in their partnership but outside of their relationship can and does take on the world. A lifestyle submissive, in my view, is a strong person who seeks someone equally as amazing to lead their personal life. Submission does not equal weak. At times it feels to me that people equate submissive to weakness and while those who spend their life wondering what that hell happened to them may be seen as wobbly when it comes to the lifestyle, those who identify as submissive are far from weak or wobbly.

Sometimes feels to me that people who enjoy being lead sexually, having a dominant partner in the bedroom or where ever they get their bow-chicka-wow-wow on, but outside of coitus they do not want to be lead assume the label of submissive and while kinky whoopee might be part of a D/S relationship, wanting a kinktastic and leading lover does not make a person a submissive. I think that the proper term for those who enjoy being submissive sexually or being a submissive BDSM playmate but do not desire the rest of the D/S package should take the label of bottom rather than submissive. The role of bottom reflects a person’s desire not to be in charge during play but also informs others that outside of rest and recreation time, they do not want to be lead in the way that submissives look to be lead by a dominant partner. Bottom is not a new term but it does feel that it has fallen from favor as more people decide to attach the label of submissive to these desires often failing to realize, in the words of Paul Harvey, “The rest of the story” that comes with choosing the label of submissive.

The next obvious term is dominant. I believe the best way to sum up a dominant, without writing a novella, is a person who finds soulful joy in leading another or others, if they are poly, in a consensual relationship. While there are many styles of d-types, all of them share the common theme of leading their partner(s), and just like over the s side of the slash, there are those who take the label of dominant when they just want to take the lead when it comes to, in my best Borat voice, sexy time. Some preach that dominants must achieve certain success in their career and these careers are almost always white-collar or if these people do accept a blue-collar career choice, these people must be finically successful. Career or wealth do not make a d-type, period end of the story. Additionally, another bit of malarkey that some attach to the role of dominant is the belief that a d-type must be Biff the Body Bilder. While I believe a dominant should endeavor to take care of their mind and body, the amount of hours spent grunting and lifting free weights does not make or break a d-type. Tied closely to this is also the idea that dominants are a creature of perfection, not only do have offices high up in an ivory tower, abs of steel, but they also are mistake and imperfection free. The truth is d-types are humans, flawed and imperfect. Dominants will make errors and will have struggles in life. Also, dominants will have times in life when their struggles will bring them to need to lean on their submissive. They are far from a great and almighty Oz, they are just the flawed man behind the curtain so to speak.

Just like on the submissive side, some call themselves dominant because they enjoy being the leader during sex or lifestyle play but outside of party games they seek a more vanilla relationship. There is nothing wrong with this but the mantle of dominant is not the correct one in my opinion. The proper identifier I think should be top which fits nicely with its opposite, bottom. So if you enjoy the kinky side of life and leading it in playtime only then I recommend choosing top rather than dominant a self-identifier.

Next, I want to chat about those big M’s, that is right the mistresses and masters. The M & M’s of the lifestyle have taken this title because of two main reasons. No, it is not because like the Seinfeld episode, they are masters of their domains but rather they have invested a significant about of time ‘mastering’ a skill within the wizarding world of BDSM or they have, currently, in real-life a submissive partner who identifies as a slave. The M & M titles are honorifics that online need to be viewed very carefully. Many of the esteemed twattwaffle townspeople take these titles not because they have invested years learning a special lifestyle skill nor are they in a relationship with a slave but they have selected it because it sounds impressive. Also, I believe it is fine and dandy if in a lifestyle partnership Submissive Sally wishes to call their d-type, Dominant Danny, master and it works great for them. That is fantabulous but I do not feel that Sally or Danny should expect nor desire anyone else to call Dan the Man, master. I also believe that online people need to be cautious of anyone who has taken one of the M’s as a title unless of course, you are chatting with the M, head of MI-6 and your name is Bond, James Bond.

Finally, I want to chat about poly, and no thank you, I do not need a cracker. Although now that I write cracker, a box of Cracker Jack sounds like a great snack. Anyway, back to poly. For me, poly is the ethical practice of loving more than one partner. Online it feels to me that many people will say “I’m poly” but then add the caveat of “my existing partner does not know”. That is not poly but good old-fashioned cheating. I believe that poly relationships have honesty between all partners with everyone involved knowing of and about the additional partners. Plus, all partners can communicate between themselves. There are no rules that one partner is forbidden to talk to another because I think in a healthy poly partnership all involved can communicate with everyone in the relationship. Additionally, there seems to be a myth that poly means a dominant with multiple submissives and that the major of d-types seek to have more than one submissives. Poly relationships come in all shapes and sizes. Yes, there are those where a d-type has more than one submissive but there are also those who are vanilla but poly. In my opinion, it is a myth that most d-types want multiple submissives. So often it seems to me that new d-types want a plethora of s-types but within the lifestyle, there are more mono dominants than poly ones. Poly does not mean someone is involved in the D/S lifestyle. Also, the more a person explores the lifestyle, the more they will discover more poly people but this is not because all poly people are lifestyle but this world provides a safer and more accepting place for those who might be vanilla and poly to be accepted since the vanilla world tends to hold negative views towards them. I also want to suggest that if you are curious about or new to poly great and informative read, The Ethical Slut, Third Edition: A Practical Guide to Polyamory, Open Relationships, and Other Freedoms in Sex and Love by Dossie Easton and Janet Hardy.

While I believe it is important to understand the what behind the labels people choose as identifiers in the lifestyle, I feel that everyone should ask when getting to know someone new what that role means to them. Since many people do see things differently than I do, it is important to understand why an individual has chosen their descriptor which makes asking this question so important. Additionally, many people make choices about their lifestyle role without doing their homework as to what a lifestyle role means, I hope that this will help people better understand the meaning behind the terms.

As with all of my writings, please see this disclaimer.

©TLK2021

[mrs-nate-humphrey]

Omg I wanna get involved in the GG TV discussion so bad but op has me blocked :( (Ch*ir blog?) so you’re getting this instead lmao. Serena is absolutely a big fan of anything that is trashy and light like reality TV but I also feel like her and Eric definitely had a soap opera phase as well when they were younger! Also I think Serena would be the Shondaland fan, not Blair. Blair would def be into Marvelous Mrs. Maisel and cliche “prestige” female led dramas like Big Little Lies and The Morning Show. She would also be the snob who claims that British sitcoms are so much better than American ones. Dan would be SUCH a Fargo guy omg. He’d be very into HBO, FX, and AMC’s whole shtick. And yes, he’d absolutely be a Succession fan! Also, he’s one of those guys who doesn’t shut up about the Leftovers and the Americans. Also he was def a big West Wing fan way back when. Nate would be the sitcom guy to me, stuff like The Office, Seinfeld, Ted Lasso...easily digestible ones. Nate doesn’t like to think with his TV. Also he’d be really into procedurals as well, but fun ones like Bones. I, uh, don’t really see Chuck just sitting around watching TV? But he’d probably be into anti-hero stuff like Breaking Bad and The Sopranos. Oh, and Entourage! He’d eat that up. I know the original anon didn’t ask about Jenny and Vanessa but, anyway. Jenny would be the offbeat sitcom one, stuff like Community and Galavant. Oh and Pushing Daises! And she’d probably make Eric watch Will & Grace and be like “that’s us!” and he’d be like “no it is not.” Vanessa would be the one who discovers stuff like Schitt’s Creek and Derry Girls before everybody else and be annoyed when they blow up in America. Oh and Fleabag! She was def an OG Fleabag fan dating back to the play and was pissed when season 2 came out and Dan was like “hey, have you heard of this show Fleabag?” Lmao.

omg yes!!! serena and eric watching TV together.... 🥺🥺🥺

blair being a snob about british tv would check out!! (when jenny gets back from london after having like, met a ton of british tv actors and designed clothes for award shows & shit, blair is jealous as hell, lmao.) Ugh but now im thinking of dan and blair's salon. literally the most white american thing ever HDHGJKGKH I'll stop talking now!!!! Gotta quit while I'm ahead.

I feel like Dan AND Nate would be sitcom people tbh. And also would watch literally anything together. Never forget that we canonically had them watching vampire porn together. Heterosexual men could NEVER.

I feel like Jenny would be that one person who's watched bits and pieces of everything. Dan gets back home to the loft in senior year one day to find Nate and Jenny intently watching one of those antique furniture shows. He also finds them watching quiz shows together and yelling at the television.

Whose headcanon was it that Serenate watch badly made low budget incredibly not scary horror movies together and make fun of them while Blair is like :/ ???? that was the best headcanon and I am so jealous that I didn't think of it first LMAO. galaxy brained, seriously....

Vanessa being into things before they're mainstream sounds so right, haha. But I think she'd drag Dan into it too, though he wouldn't get the hype until it's mainstream. I think Nate would be the person recommending her stuff she's already seen like "sweetie look how well I understand you!!" & she'd be like "you're lucky you're so pretty, nate."

[electric-marrow]

mouth dreams review but it was typed live while i was listening to it and completely unedited

under the cut because it’s 1800+ words. also, swearing. actual review to come soon!!

mouth dreams' first track is ephemeral and beautiful, spine-chilling and moving. it rocks you into this world in a beautiful passageway, like the entrance to sakaar, and the moment it peaks over into the twilight opening you are almost on the verge of tears.

and then we will rock you kicks in.

/and then the spongebob squarepants opening theme kicks in/.

and then the two motherfucking /sync/.

a beautiful piece of childhood, worked over another. beautiful guitar overlaid with beautiful chanting almost powerful.

the next song uses extensive sentence mixing, but is cut so smoothly that we are convinced Cash is offering up an absurd, painstakingly honest tale. "it's probably a good train." fuck, fuck, yes, it probably is. "my mama was my train." fuck, she was...

the instrumentals are soul-rising, and the "baby, baby, baby" undercurrent is eargasmic. everything about it feels like you're listening to your dying mentor's backstory.

it moves you, and you keep moving. this whole album keeps you in constant motion, as if you yourself have some falling to do.

and then he says "i shit my pants". and you realise, this is it, this is NEIL'S ALBUM, oh, how foolish you were for forgetting.

HELL YES IT'S FUCKING PSYCHO KILLER. let me pause the review of that song, fuck yes.

a heavily sentence-mixed "pyscho killer" focusing on david byrne's bed, overlaid atop the iconic instrumentals of super freak.

this makes the talking heads classic seem like an upbeat song you might hear on the radio. it's much less somber, more passionate.

neil's humor pokes through visibly, shining like a beacon of light that brings a smile to your tear-stained face.

there's no room to breathe on this album; the songs come running together in the most gorgeous of ways. holy shit, am i only twelve minutes in? i think i might sob.

this one is unfamiliar at first—i only saw the partridge family once or twice as a kid. the remixing is smooth, so that it sounds natural.

so natural that when it starts to sound unnatural, it's a terrifying work of art that made me shake. a plea with you to be happy, almost a demand, like they're outside your windows.

the music starts to dance from ear to ear, and it's almost masterful in the horror it invokes.

and then there's scatting. or, what sounds like it.

and then you realise it's the chili's babyback ribs ad. it's soulful, placed atop everybody wants to rule the world in smooth ease.

that's when marilyn manson starts shrieking. the roughness, the rasp, smacking against that smooth drawl. it's a beautiful juxtaposition.

oh, and then the lion sleeps tonight is there. somehow, it fits. you start to revel in neil's genius. no one will ever be able to achieve this again, not in the same way. this is the beacon that you needed in these dark times.

you wonder if you'll cry the next time you hear this.

it's a pretty effective ad, actually. if marilyn manson advertised everything, i might buy it.

the next song makes you jump to attention. the track teased in the trailer, with its jumping guitar and its congested vocals. this sounds almost natural, like an authentic goth song.

of course, he has to say "mouth". aerosmith and green day and, most importantly, neil cicierega, combining to create a mouthy ballad that echoes through you.

—oh, goddamnit, green day. september 30th. neil woke up when september ended. fuck. dammit. is that insensitive? maybe. shit.

i'm not well-versed with music, so these songs were both pretty alien. however, their mixing is masterful, and the removal of the singer's objections to his situations form a sweet little ballad.

my own worst enemy. this one is  familiar, and it makes heads turn as you realise what music is slowly remixed.

a rocking tribute to sleeping with your clothes on. short, sweet, rockin' and rollin' as hard as it can.

the segue is beautiful, like it's natural.

the lyrics make your chest heave, and the sound itself is heavily distorted to a dreamy state, as if you are as drunk as the singer sounds. anything can be amore, you realise.

the distortion is noticeable without ruining the track, and neil has gotten significantly better.

it ends a little more nightmarishly, and makes you feel very real. very in your skin. fuck yeah, neil.

the following "stop" is even more jarring, and it's almost welcome.

and then, stacy's mom. i think the instrumentals are where is my mind, i don't know. but it /works/, and it fits together, with stacy's mom slowed down considerably but not so that it ruins the track. the pitch is shifted properly so that it becomes an angry slow ballad about stacy's mom. rife with heartbreak.

and then it stops, breaks off into a cry for "mom" that might awaken buried maternal issues in the listener. maybe just me, though.

here comes fred durst. it gets the "wow wow" treatment, and its nookie theme becomes sweet, bouncing around with innocent sentimentality. i thought i heard seinfeld around there somewhere.

this is a good point in the album to close your eyes and really hear the album, to feel what ou are truly experiencing. it can move by too fast if you're not paying attention. listen to that iconic sledgehammer guitar. listen to—mario?

fuck. fuck. fuck.

fucking christ. not the fucking ewok celebration.

almost nonsensical lyrics play over the nookie instrumental (reversing the last track's roles), and the combination is natural and rowdy. you slowly realise what those ewoks reflected in neil's glasses /mean/, and it horrifies you just a little.

god, that's good. fuck you, neil.

jingles? is that—jingles?

a moment of confusion. and then, THX.

the iconic, crawling note, invading your ears and then slowly fading out. "she drives me crazy" is playing, and the THX sound is its backing track.

only neil.

it gets better as it goes on, from a joking track to a genuinely orchestral sensation. it's good music. it's beautiful. it feels like an action movie soundtrack, as the hero discovers a massive secret.

maybe you are dreaming.

the next sound sample is jarring. the announcement. the outsiders cast. and then more, and then more. it feels like a list of gods left in a dying world. johnny.

and then there is johnny cash.

and then it isn't.

what neil plays is heartbreaking. it feels like your world is crashing down around you. it's a betrayal that could bring anyone to their knees. the booing played behind it is appropriate.

but he builds that world right back up, with soft, strumming guitar. it's forgiveness and vitriol all rolled into one.

actually, you can forgive him for the next track. yes. fireflies. let's fucking go. closer overlaid with fireflies. yes. hell yes.

it's like a gift, a peace offering.

the nostalgic, upbeat lyrics, feel deeper atop the warbling, warped backing track. it's like owl city's song about dreaming feels like it could be a teenage angst anthem.

it's art.

the plucked guitar fades out, and the lyrics start to distort. everything fades away...

nevermind, time for billy joel.

the shrieking, screaming, rasping lyrics of nightmare are mixed atop the bouncing piano music, so the song lays halfway between an upbeat piece of joy, and a warning.

it ain't over yet.

xylophone. why is there xylophone?

the iconic "powerhouse" track serves as our instrumentals, the classic sound one from our childhood as the droning sound of jack white forms a buzzing piece of heartbreak. only neil, right?

only neil.

the "War" sample is iconic, and it makes you jump.

the "Wannabe" sample will make you writhe.

iconic, jamming guitar, and also wario. the spice girls, and also wario. yes. yes. this is it.

the following laughter brings back your childhood. elfman's work on the peewee soundtrack, peripatetic in nature, running up and down your ears as gorillaz croons a bittersweet sound. it becomes almost triumphant against the instrumental, re-energized like the monster in frankenstein's lab.

peewee is laughing. maybe we should laugh too.

the next one up is soft, plucked note by note, until alanis morisette goes completely off the deep end. the spoons, alanis.

holy shit, is that knight rider?

this mashup is classic, expertly remixed without a single hitch. it's neil at his finest, neil at his neiliest, alanis' quiet "Don't you think?" almost smug.

the sound of rain, followed by the crooning iconic "raiiiiin" is enough to make you break down. this is a blessing from an unknowable god.

two backstreet boys lines run up against each other, forming a surrounding sound that envelopes you in shaking guitar until the distorted sound in the back becomes noticeable.

there it is. there's the song you were waiting for.

your savior has arrived, and it is in a horrible form. it rises from the tomb in an unholy abomination. you fall to your knees.

"wake up."

i can't. i'm trapped here. i can feel every single one of my vertebra. i'm crying.

and then beethoven and britney make a duet.

"hit me baby one more time" runs along iconic dashing violin.

you start to hear it, and then it's there even more.

the hall of the mountain king, slowly building, the suspense enough to bring you to the edge of your seat. weezer's lyrics are pronounced like an oracle's prophecy, sardonic and yet grim, delivered with its iconic "say it ain't so" almost ironic.

then the crescendo hits, and the singing feels like it's declaring your fate. it rocks you, and never lets you still.

...and then there is the dial-up. you're staring at neil's face, and you realise the title itself has a secret. the starred letters spelled out "nice modem."

the screeching dial-up sound, and then nothing. you're sitting in the silence, with this quiet revelation.

he's carried you through the greatest adventure of your life, and then left you in the nothingness, tearing away a world that could only be imagined in the dreams of a 90s kid raised on the internet.

it's heartbreaking, but it mends every single tear of that vital organ. it's alright. neil's got you. this is his gift, this is his message.

he shares this dream with us, because it's the only piece of hope we can hold onto. someone else's dream, forged on childhood memories and ambition, woven together with years of experience until it culminates into an hour-long album of cultural mashup and musical blasphemy.

it brings tears to my eyes, and then wipes them off. it wants you to feel, it wants you to bleed, and then it wants you to heal. rejoice, says mouth dreams. rejoice. rejoice in what the world has given you.

you're going to be alright.

definitely, like, a solid 9/10. pretty good album. i think my favorite track was either brithoven or superkiller, tell me what yours was in the replies!

i can see new colors.

[newagesispage]

                                                                JULY                                   2021

 THE RIB PAGE

 *****

They are still uncovering statues on Easter Island.

*****

Everyone is talking about ‘Exterminate all the Brutes” from Raoul Peck.

*****

Vampire bats, prevalent in Latin America may be on the way to the U.S.

*****

What they call faith, I call strength.

*****

Criss angel will open CABLP, a restaurant in Overton, Nevada. The letters stand for breakfast, lunch and pizza and will include a free meal outreach program to help under privileged and pediatric cancer families.

*****

A fifth ocean in Antartica??** There have also found 4 new ocean species: Apolemia, Tegula Kusairo, Leptarma Biju and Duobrachium Sparksae.

*****

In China they have found a possible new species in a skull that is 140,000 years old.

*****

Why would Jeffrey Toobin be back at CNN?? Surely there are more young deserving talking heads around.

*****

The Keystone pipeline is dead.

*****

5,000 pounds of explosives were discovered in a home in South LA. LAPD seems to have detonated the fireworks in a truck right there in the neighborhood. They were too dangerous to transport but not enough to blow them up??? How stupid are these people??

*****

Days alert : So glad to see Clyde again even if it is only for a moment!! **BTW, I do not understand the Daytime Emmy noms this year as they relate to Days. I really was pulling for Victoria Koneful (Ciara) and she won but George DelHoya (Orpheus), Tamara Braun (Ava) and Cady McClain (Jennifer)??? I was shocked when Cady McClain won. I mean, she was so whiny. I question my own ability to judge a performance. In most categories, the winner was usually the one I thought was the worst option. I was happy for Max Gail and CBS Sunday Morning.  Some performances were sure overlooked. What about James Read (Clyde), Paul Telfer (Xander), Bryan Dattilo (Lucas), Robert Scott Wilson (Ben), Daniel Kerr (Eli) and Lindsay Arnold (Allie) ?? As annoying as the Kristen character is and as long as it took me to get used to Stacy Haiduk in the role, she kicked ass this year. Did they even submit clips?? And,  they are not often on but Tony and Anna forever!!!!!!** And how wonderful is it to see the Dimera boys all together and recounting the whole fam for the votes? **And one more thing, Days was not even nominated for writing while Bold and the Beautiful spends every other show with the Liam character standing in front of the fireplace making excuses for the same shit! Just push repeat, C,mon!!**Philip had a great line for Brady about following Kristen like a zombie.** Dis Eli really say, “Peacock and chill??’ Are these the things they will have to do to do to stay on the air? It took me right out of the show. It was the same day the ads for Days on Peacock started. OMG

*****

Texas Gov. Abbott vetoed a bill that would make it illegal to chain up dogs without water.**ATexas churches have lost their 501(c) (3) status because it actively ‘educates’ its members on electing specific Republican politicians. –Pete West* This should have been happening long ago. Many churches I know of do this and should not be allowed to have it both ways. #tax the church

*****

Ellen Burstyn, Jane Curtin, Loretta Devine, Christopher Lloyd, James Caan, French Stewart and Ann-Margaret in Queen Bees and directed by Michael Lembeck?? Yes please!!

*****

NY has suspended Giuliani’s law license.

*****

Miracle Workers: The Oregon Trail is coming to TBS, this will be season 3 in the series.

*****

What is this about Bowen Yang?? A podcast about a sperm bank heist?? Yeow!!

*****

David Geffen has given $150,000,000 to Yale drama school: Every student will be tuition- free in perpetuity.

*****

Allison Mack was sentenced to 3 years.

*****

The latest in sexual assault news: James Franco has agreed to 2.2 mil settlement in sexual misconduct case.** Kyle Massey was charged with immoral communication with a minor.**Bill Cosby is out and here are some reactions: A terrible wrong is being righted.: a miscarriage of justice is corrected. I fully support survivors of sexual assault coming forward.- Phylicia Rashad*I really don’t ever want to hear again as to why many survivors don’t report their rape or assault.- Charlotte Clymer* Women are showing great restraint in not burning everything to the ground right now and I don’t know how they do it.-Jeff Tiedrich

*****

Amazon is making a series of A League of Their Own with Nick Offerman as the coach.

*****

Does anyone else have family members that are rich, transient, know it all snobs??

*****

It looks like New York’s ranked choice voting is leaning toward Eric Adams for Mayor.

*****

Michigan republicans investigating voter fraud found 2 incidents. One is for a lady who voted by mail and then died, the other was confusion over a man who had the same name as his Father. That was it!

*****

Jamie Lee Curtis will get the Golden Lion for lifetime achievement at the 78th Venice International Film Fest in September.

*****

Jerry Seinfeld will star in and direct ‘Unfrosted’ about Pop-Tarts.

*****

Why is Airbnb still listing properties in illegal settlements and outposts in Palestinian occupied territories? –James J. Zogby

*****

Merrick Garland has announced that the Justice department sued Georgia over the voting rights.

*****

The NFL says that it will halt the use of “race norming” which assumed black players started out with lower cognitive functioning in a $1 billion settlement of brain injury claims. The practice had made it harder for black players to qualify. –The Associated Press.

*****

Scary Clown 45 ended his ‘From the desk of Donald J. Trump’ blog after 29 days. Word is that he felt he was being mocked in the media.

*****

Religious leadership keeps engaging in partisan politics on behalf of politicians that are particularly unpopular with younger people and they wonder why younger people are disenchanted with the church. – Schooley ** Give young people credit as well for seeing through the hype and lies of these religious hypocrites who use God only as a weapon and a threat. –Larry Charles

*****

Amazon will stop drug testing for employment. Can every other company jump on this bandwagon? Let’s judge employees on the work they give.

*****

The Backstreet Boys and NSync are going to work together??!!

*****

Showtime is bringing back American Gigolo with Jon Bernthal.

*****

If Biden can carry out air strikes without proper authorization, the Senate can raise the minimum wage without the Parliamentarian.  –Alexandra M. Hunt

Reality Winner is out!!

*****

Judy Woodruff has been given the Peabody award for journalistic integrity.

*****

Donald Glover is bringing us Hive. Malia Obama will be a writer.

*****

Nicholas Cage has married Riko Shibata.

*****

Catch and Kill: The podcast tapes, is here on HBO.

*****

Bryan Cranston and Annette Bening will star in Jerry and Marge go large.

*****

Amblin Partners and Netflix are partners.

*****

Fall 2022 will bring the Roybal School of film and television production for underserved communities. They are looking to help 9th, 10th, 11th and 12th grade students. Among others, the program was cofounded by George Clooney, Don Cheadle, Kerry Washington, Mindy Kaling and Eva Longoria.

*****

Will there be a Wedding Crashers2??

*****

The Mysterious Benedict Society stars Tony Hale.** I would love to see he and Danny Pudi in something together.

*****

Actor Stephen Amell from Arrow was removed from a plane after getting into it with his wife.  A source said he was drunk and screaming. An official source said that they removed “an unruly customer.”** Andy Dick was arrested for assault with a deadly weapon, allegedly assaulting his partner, Lucas with a metal chair.

*****

So.. Fox news was digitally altering the faces of people they did not care for??? Is there no end to their bullshit????

*****

Mark Ronson is set to marry Grace Gummer.

*****

Crime shows seem to be in the cycle of prisoners and the women who get a thrill from helping them escape.

*****

Wolfgang Van Halen has released a debut album: Mammoth

*****

Everyone seems to love Danny Trejo’s memoir and its honesty.

*****

David Spade will take over as host of Bachelor in Paradise.

*****

I am sickened when I see the first question that pops up on an online search is the net worth of a person. Oh this twisted world.

*****

Life is a short pause between 2 great mysteries. –Jung

*****

Prince Harry and Meghan had a daughter that they named Lilibet ‘Lili” Diana.

*****

Michael Flynn’s brother Charles (who withheld help from the capitol on Jan. 6), leads the U.S. Army Pacific and commands 90,000 troops.

*****

I am so excited to read ‘The Boys’ from Clint and Ron Howard, due out in October.

*****

Dave Chappelle closed out the Tribeca film fest with a surprise concert. This was the first in person film fest since Covid. Look for This time, this place which premiered there.

*****

Ron Wood will release the album Mr. Luck: A tribute to Jimmy Reed on Sept. 3

*****

Howard Stern signed a new $500 mil contract with Sirius XM. He is taking the whole summer off and many fans say they will cancel their subscription because they don’t want to pay for a summer of reruns.

*****

Acorn will bring Jane Seymour back to a series. Seymour will be co -executive produce on Harry Wild. Her character will be a retired University professor who loves her whiskey and solves crimes.

*****

Annie Murphy  stasr in ‘Kevin can f*** himself about a sitcom wife which airs on AMC.

*****

I still do not understand why Rep. Mike Nearman hasn’t been arrested for letting insurrectionists into the Capitol.

*****

There is a wing shortage??

*****

The Pulitzer prizes have been announced. The list includes Ben Faub, Barry Blitt, Katori Hall, Emilio Morenatti, AP photographers Marcio Jose Sanchez, Alex Brandon, David Goldman, Julio Cortez, John Minchillo, Frank Franklin II, Ringo H.W. Chiu, Evan Vucci, Mike Stewart and Noah Berger. There was a special citation for Darnella Frazier who filmed the death of George Floyd.

*****

Conan’s last TBS guests were Martin Short, Jack Black, Bill Hader, Mila Kunis, Dana Carvey, Patton Oswalt and JB Smoove. There were some surprises.  The big musical number never happened when Jack Black hurt himself. It was all funny and sweet but Conan never mentioned the band in the last show WTF????????????????????????????????????????? Music is so important to him and he does not thank the band? ** Colbert and Brian Stack gave Conan a cute send after4, 368 shows on CBS calling him a ‘Slenderman Ron Weasly’.  Kimmel wished Conn well also.** Hope his HBO MAX variety show goes well.** BTW, the Duvall interview with Colbert was great to see but why does nobody ever mention ‘Get Low?’ What a performance!!

*****

Tattoos are on the rise.

*****

Fast food drive thru’s sometime close with fake excuses like the equipment is down or something because they don’t feel like working. Good people can’t find work and so many waste the opportunities they have. AAAAGHH!!

*****

Valerie Bertinelli and Demi Lovato will star in ‘Hungry’ on NBC.

*****

Hulu will bring us David E. Kelley’s Nine Perfect Strangers with Nicole Kidman, Michael Shannon, Regina Hall, Bobby Cannavale and Melissa McCarthy.

*****

R.I.P. Gavin Macleod, Frank Bonner, Joy Vogelsang, Benigno Aquino, Champ Biden, victims of the Miami building collapse, Robert Sacchi, Stuart Damon, Johnny Solinger  and Clarence Williams III.

[brightstorm98]

For the Character Ask Meme, you must know I will ask about Beckett :D

But of course! For there is no character who concerns my fandom efforts more than the fair Gangrel boi-o!

How I feel about Beckett:

Well, to be fair, I kinda ignored him at first. My first run of Bloodlines 1 I wasn’t so much interested in the lore and just wanted to discover all the character interactions with the Anarchs that I could. On repeated play throughs however, he started to grow on me. One day I eventually looked up his character online and well, I took the bisexual vampire Indiana Jones bait hook, line, and sinker 😅 He’s an absolute delightful character - not a Gary-Stu (he has realistic flaws and has made PLENTY of mistakes over the years), intelligent and open to new ideas (big brains are SEXY), has a rather attractive character design (other than that phase in the 90’s where he had Jerry Seinfeld hair he’s always had long dark hair and I mean come on, who can’t swoon over that?), he’s a middle-aged character which, especially in modern media, you do not see that often (age representation FTW!), and of course...did I mention bisexual? I think I may have but just wanted to be sure I got that in there.

People I ship with Beckett romantically:

If you’ve never read any of the novels/sourcebooks that feature dear Cuthbert, he’s very popular with like...literally everyone and anyone he meets. Camarilla, Sabbat, Anarch, doesn’t matter. They all are hot for him, and based on some of the stuff in Jyhad Diary, goodness does he know it 😆 That said, he seems rather choosy with who he totally opens up to friendship wise, so the same can only be assumed to be just as exclusive, if not moreso, for romance.

For romance, out of the many candidates out in the night and based on Beckett’s canonically established sexual preferences:

Anatole for the guys, because come on, they have gay couple goals written all over them! Whether or not they have a sexual relationship is up in the air, but no one who has ever read anything between these two can deny that there is capital L LOVE between them. Anatole’s thrown parties for Beckett, misses him when they’re a part, and of course in the Gehenna timeline visits Beckett in his dreams to try and help him despite having met Final Death. Since he’s alive and well as of V20 and onwards, I hope one day we get a bit more of an in-depth look into their relationship because even if it isn’t “canon”, the seeds of romance have been sown for these two! (Honorable mentions go to Vlad Dracula ((yes you read that right and yes they canonically fucked and Beckett is a bride of Dracula and no I’m not making this up read Jyhad Diary)) and Hesha Ruhadze).

The female half of the spectrum was tricky. I think he will always be in love with Emma Blake, his love interest from the Victorian novel Trilogy, and since White Wolf likes to resurrect characters we saw die these days in lore, perhaps she’ll come back! I certainly hope so, that lady deserves a break. Beckett does best with a calm and dedicated feminine partner who balances out his impulsive and sometimes wishy-washy loyalties, and Emma is the perfect candidate for that. She inspires humanity and tenderness in him and he in turn gives her strength and courage. They’re just too cute together and I want them to have a happy ending some how, some way 😭 (Honorable mentions go to Lucita de Aragon and Carna the Tremere).

I also have to mention Sascha Vykos because oh boy, is there chemistry between these two in Jyhad Diary. They’ve reached a truce at the moment in the canon and Beckett finds them “handsome and beautiful”, so there is ample opportunity for a enemies-to-allies-to-lovers arc here. They both actually have quite a bit in common interest-wise regarding seeking out knowledge and looking for answers about what it means to be a vampire. Maybe the answer they’re looking for is with each other...

My non-romantic OTP with Beckett:

This has to go to Lucita de Aragon. They are just too good together as partners. While they may have or have had a sexual relationship, I don’t see them as true love interests because I think especially at this point Lucita is kinda done with men, at least from a romantic standpoint. They’re undoubtedly best friends and are able to tease one another, help each other out, and of course turn plenty of heads when they walk into the room together. Lasombra-Gangrel besties who can fuck you up, basically 😂 (Honorable mention goes to Okulos the Nosferatu. He might have gotten it if not for his behavior in the Gehenna timeline, and I know it’s pretty much ignored in the canon atm but it’s hard to just forget about. Sorry Okulos. Try not to be such a prick in the future).

My unpopular opinion about Beckett:

Hmm...this is a hard one. The only thing I could really think of is that he maybe needs to learn how to ask for help more often? He tries to be a one man show (possibly to keep people from stealing his discoveries like his adopted sire did, possibly to keep the few close people he has safe) and that gets him into trouble a lot. He’s gotten lucky and gotten out of a lot of jams on his own or by sheer luck that someone found him.

One thing that I wish would happen/had happened to Beckett in canon:

I wish we could have seen him interact with characters in Bloodlines that he later hangs out with in Jyhad Diary like Damsel and Smiling Jack. Would have been really cool to see and hear with Michael Gough voicing him!

[a-second-hand-sorrow]

Proposal Headcanons (Richie Tozier X Reader)

WC: 1166

Warnings: Language, hinting at Sex ooh, it is the softest and sweetest shit ive ever written so be prepared.

Summary: How Richie proposes to Y/N

A/N: Yet another PRCU installment boyos! This is set in the fall of 2011 and I really hope you guys enjoy it because I loved writing it.

Tagged: @billhaderlovebot (if anyone else wants to be tagged in any more PRCU stuff just lemme know)

From the end of their first date Richie knew Y/N was the one he was going to marry, the problem was it took him a while to work out exactly how he would ask her.

Eventually, in the fall of 2011, he finally had a concrete plan and he knew that he would ask her to marry him and fingers crossed she said yes.

He decided he would surprise Y/N with a weekend at the Ritz-Carlton. She’d always loved the look of the hotel and whenever they passed it she sighed loudly, which Richie knew meant ‘I really want to go there’ and he knew she would appreciate a weekend away from work and all the stress that came with writing for SNL.

He informed John of his plans and naturally John approved, going to the right people at SNL in order to give her the time off. He was so very grateful for how good John was to Y/N, so he’d ask him to be his best man, but a little bit later.

When he surprised Y/N with the weekend ‘away’ she was over the moon, wrapping him in the tightest hug known to man and covering every square inch of his face in kisses. Richie really liked that reaction.

Upon arriving at the hotel and discovering that Richie had booked them a honeymoon suite Y/N was ecstatic, running around the room like an energetic child and Richie just watched on with a love-struck smile. He certainly made the right choice with her.

Also they Definitely put the bed in the suite to Good Use over the course of the weekend, just saying

Anyway, most of the weekend they chilled in the hotel, taking absolute advantage of the class and luxury of the place. Y/N wanted to steal some silverware and maybe a lamp however for once in his entire life Richie had to act as someone’s impulse control and tell his almost fiancée that you cannot steal a fucking lamp from the Ritz-Carlton. They will notice that that shit is missing.

Y/N got pouty about that but Richie took her to the hotel’s restaurant and let her order whatever she wanted and she was much happier. She also stole a teaspoon but that’s beside the point.

On Sunday morning they spent a lot of time cuddled up in bed ordering room service for breakfast, however Richie informed Y/N that he was going to be taking her to a surprise lunch spot. She looked at him wearily but nodded, pecking his lips before saying that he’d better not be taking her to some secondary location somewhere to murder her, because that happens all the time on Dateline, Rich!

Richie just laughed and insisted it wasn’t a murder surprise, it was a nice romantic surprise, and Y/N immediately felt better. She went into the bathroom to shower and get dressed, and Richie quickly got up and found the drawer where he had hidden the ring. He pulled out the box and stuffed it in his bag beneath his jacket to avoid her finding it.

Once they were both ready to go, Richie linked his hand with Y/N and they walked out of the hotel. He knew exactly where he was going and he walked like a man on a mission, Y/N having to jog slightly to catch up with her long-legged boyfriend.

After a bit of a walk Y/N saw the surprise location, and before Richie could say anything her eyes were widened and a scream of joy left her lips.

“Oh my fucking god. It’s… holy shit it’s the diner! Like the one from Seinfeld! Holy shit Rich, you didn’t!” Y/N said excitedly, jumping up out of excitement. He nodded his head with a smile, and Y/N pulled him into a tight hug, almost squeezing the life out of him.

“You are the best boyfriend ever and when we get back from lunch you are so getting it.” Y/N said and Richie smiled widely, almost smirking due to the knowledge of what this lunch would contain.

They entered the diner and the waitress showed them to their table, Y/N clutching Richie’s hand with glee the entire time. They ate their meal, chatting with each other as they did. Richie ordered dessert for the both of them, and as the waitress left he took in a deep breath, preparing himself for the question he was about to ask Y/N.

“Y/N, you know I love you. I love you so much it actually hurts sometimes, like when I have to physically restrain you in public sometimes when you have the urge to take other people’s dogs home with you. I love it when you wait up for me after shows with a blanket, a bowl of popcorn and an endless amount of kisses, and I love it when I can go to bed and be able to fall asleep next to the woman of my dreams. I’ve loved you since that first date where the lady in the cinema shushed you for laughing at me, and ideally, if you’ll have me, I’d like to be able to love you for the rest of my life.” Richie said, dropping to one knee and pulling out the box he’d been carrying all day.

Y/N’s eyes began to water and her hands came up to clasp over her mouth and nose as she looked at her boyfriend, kneeling on the dirty floor of the diner from her favourite show, holding the most exquisite ring she had ever seen, with more love in his eyes than she had ever seen in any person before.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, would you be willing to make me the happiest man alive and marry me? I’m really hoping you say yes because otherwise this would be very awkward.”

By now the whole restaurant had gone silent and everyone was looking at them expectantly, waiting for Y/N’s response, none more so than Richie who waited anxiously on the ground.

“You fucking idiot, of course I’ll marry you. As if I’d say no, Rich. Honestly.” Y/N said, and the entire restaurant let out a cheer, and Y/N wished she could’ve taken a photo of Richie’s face right then because it was the epitome of pure, unadulterated joy.

Y/N knelt down and pulled Richie into a kiss, her hands gripping the side of his face as they kissed and kissed and kissed until finally they had to breathe.

“Guess we’d better put this on then, huh?” Richie said, his voice slightly shaky due to the tears he had just shed, and Y/N nodded eagerly, both their hands trembling as Richie slid the ring onto Y/N’s finger.

“I know I said you were so getting it before lunch but goddamn now we are not leaving that bed from when we get back until tomorrow morning.” Y/N said, and Richie nodded, making sure the bill was payed before dashing out of the restaurant, hand in hand with his new fiancée.

[mayorcandidate]

Mayor Candidate

Are you running for election? Congratulations to you on your initiative.

As a candidate for political office you will need to research your options and prepare. Learn the issues, take a position and build a network. Yet another thing - discover ways to present your message well. And take action better than the competition.

The mayoral candidates spoke at a residential area meeting. Four of the five candidates attended. These were each allowed an opening and closing statement. In between these were asked to answer several written questions from the audience. The candidates were allowed up to 90 seconds for every single answer.

As a specialist speaker and executive speech coach I was under impressed by the candidates. But I was not surprised by having less presentation prowess. It could be very easy for political candidates to enhance their presentations skills. Why do they neglect such a powerful tool of persuasion and success?

Let's be clear Mayor Candidate . The objective of these community meetings is to show that the candidates understand the important thing issues of the audience and that they'll do something about it.

Here are my presentation methods for these mayoral candidates particularly and all political hopefuls in general.

Learn How to Use Microphones The first speaker tested his microphone by blowing about it before he spoke. That is both annoying and unprofessional. The easiest way to check a microphone is to speak. Don't say "TEST, TEST" or "Is this thing on?" Just speak normally.

First be Human Just one speaker (the incumbent) thanked the organizers and complimented another candidates in the room. That is a sign of experience, confidence and compassion.

Talk to the Audience, Not your Notes One speaker seemed to learn everything he explained - his opening and closing and even the answers to questions. In between he was busily scribbling notes while another speakers spoke. He clearly was not in the room. He may be a good back room researcher and thinker but not really a leader.

Don't Look Angry One candidate displayed his anger a few times. He also complained that current council have been divisive. He promised to correct that by forcing them to be more efficient. How? By getting angry at them?

Concentrate on What's Relevant This same angry candidate included an argument about federal politics - on a completely unrelated issue. He went in terms of to encourage the audience to contact a nearby MP about his pet federal issue. What does that have related to this municipal election? Do you want to be mayor or would you would like to rant?

Conclude Ninety seconds might sound like a short time to speak but successful politicians have to speak in sound bytes which is often 5 to 30 seconds. For the program they received signals from the timer at 60, 30 and 10 seconds - yet they missed the chance to conclude. All the time the speakers trailed off and sometimes they ended so meekly that people wondered if these were done speaking. Conclude every mini speech and end strong.

Smile A laugh indicates confidence, warmth and trust. Why didn't these candidates smile more? Every mini speech must have ended with a smile and steady gaze at the audience. Instead they frowned, looked down and glanced sideways at the MC. No one looked happy with their message. The sound in the room was bad. Just suppose that no one understood the language spoken and saw only the speaker. In the event that you looked up at the speaker at the conclusion of their mini speech you'd have felt like it was another disappointing answer.

Make me Laugh The surest way to connect with anyone is to produce them laugh. So why didn't you make us laugh? There were a few weak attempts from two of the candidates during the 90-minute torture session. We don't expect you to be Seinfeld. However, a chuckle goes a long way.

Repeat or Reframe the Question By enough time we heard from the third speaker the audience could have forgotten the initial question. Some questions were long and multipart and a few of the speakers went off on tangents. Repeating or reframing the question will remind the audience of the question and help you stay on track.

Be Prepared A number of the candidates was winging it at times. It looked as though they had never considered or considered the questions before. Yet, none of the questions were surprises.

Yes, I realize that substance counts in addition to style. Nevertheless when there appears to be little difference in substance we gravitate to style. Unfortunately we don't ask our political candidates to write an exam. So we have to judge them on style because that's all we can see.

[cartoonessays]

OFF-TOPIC: All the Rage

Dave Chappelle has just released his latest stand-up special on Netflix, Sticks & Stones.  This stand-up special comes after four other comedy specials that have been beleaguered with criticism over Chappelle’s material about the LGBTQ+ community, particularly transgender people, and about the women who accused Louis CK of sexual misconduct.  And Sticks & Stones has attracted just as much controversy as any of Chappelle’s other Netflix specials if not more.

And that’s by design.

The special opens up with this quote from Kendrick Lamar’s “DNA”

Tell me somethin’ / You mothafuckas can’t tell me nothin’ / I’d rather die than to listen to you…

In Sticks & Stones, Dave Chappelle sets himself up as some kind of defiant martyr fighting the good fight against so-called “cancel culture” or any moral busybodies who get offended by any jokes he or any of his other comedian friends might have told at any point.  Many of those who express praise and enthusiasm towards Sticks & Stones defend it on similar grounds, writing off any criticism of it as people being “too sensitive”, “offended”, and “trying to cancel Dave Chappelle”.

Enough dancing around the subject.  I found the special really tired and juvenile.  What he’s doing here is thumbing his nose at any critic who had dared to take issue with anything he has said in his prior Netflix special in a way that eschews the thoughtfulness that Chappelle is capable of for petulance.  That might have been okay if it was funny regardless, but I didn’t think it was.  A better version of what Chappelle tried to do here was more than 30 years ago, in Eddie Murphy: Raw.  Eddie Murphy opened up this special complaining about criticism he got for his last special from Mr. T, Michael Jackson, and the gay community with much funnier jokes.  The crescendo of this bit was his brilliant story of Bill Cosby calling him on the phone to browbeat him about his foul language.

A bunch of the critics praising Sticks & Stones are calling it revelatory and a breath of fresh air in this moment of time.  Really?  All this is is Chappelle’s version of “PC gone mad” in response to criticism, which is not a novel concept.  Carlos Mencia’s whole shtick 15 years ago was to crack jokes using racial stereotypes and then spend the next ten minutes guilt tripping the audience into laughing by expressing faux-martyrdom aggrievement over “political correctness” or “sensitivity”.  This is as cliche a comedy staple as “take my wife, please”.  Other comedians who have gone this exact same angle include Jerry Seinfeld, Roseanne Barr, Larry the Cable Guy, Ricky Gervais, Bill Maher, Chris Rock, Andrew Dice Clay, Lil Duval, Jim Norton, Patrice O’Neal, Nick DaPaolo, Joe Rogan, Doug Stanhope, Rob Schneider, Lisa Lampanelli, Eddie Griffin, John Cleese, George Carlin, Aziz Ansari, Sarah Silverman, DL Hughley, Tracy Morgan, Adam Carolla, Amy Schumer, Tim Allen, Aries Spears, Russell Peters, Redd Foxx, Dennis Miller, Mike Epps, Patton Oswalt, Jeff Dunham, Sam Kinison, and Louis CK just to name a few.

Despite this being a cliche, I think taking the angle Dave Chappelle took here is more expedient for himself than ever.  A part of the reason is because our society has become more politically polarizing than ever.  A lot of the discourse around Sticks & Stones falls along politically partisan lines (yes, I know that includes myself too).  Most of the people defending Dave Chappelle so ardently are right-wing pundits/publications like Breitbart, Dana Loesch, and Gavin McInnes and most of the people criticizing Chappelle are liberal/pro-LGBTQ+ publications.  Chappelle and his defenders are using this special as a denouncing of “cancel culture”.  I hate that term and I hate the framing around it even more because it’s so vaguely defined other than the fact that it’s nakedly partisan.  The screeds against “cancel culture” are not so subtle digs at the left and reinforce a narrative that the left wants to censor everything and that the right are the true defenders of free speech and free expression.  It’s weird that the “cancel culture” designation never applies when the right-wing gets upset about Nike, Gillette, or Keurig coffee makers.

I think a better name for all of this is “outrage culture” and it’s nonpartisan.  So much of our public discourse is handled on social media, particularly Twitter, that rewards shorter and more attention-grabbing hot takes over lengthy, nuanced analysis.  And one of the easiest ways to grab attention is by being outrageous or inflammatory.  In response, online publications of all political stripes write their headlines in inflammatory ways that grab attention in order to be shared on social media.  Even if the actual article has more nuance to it, most people don’t read past the splashy headline anyway.  In regards to politics, it has further defined people, whatever their personal views may be, in reaction to what they aren’t or what they disagree with.  It’s partially why so many people have blamed things like the 2016 Ghostbusters film or Star Wars: The Last Jedi as the reason they voted for Trump or why they’ll vote for Trump again.  It’s also why so many of the people praising Sticks & Stones so zealously have attempted to use it as a rallying cry for Trump and Trumpism.  This also goes for any liberals who expressed a desire to buy Nikes or Gillette razors after the right-wing meltdown over them.

Sticks & Stones was a rallying cry to anybody that has defined themselves or their politics to being anti-politically correct (which isn’t only right-wingers, but largely encompasses right-wingers) to look to Dave Chappelle as a hero to wrap themselves around.  I felt the same way about Louis CK’s stand-up “comeback” where he mocked school shooting survivors, millenials, and non-binary kids.  CK was hugely popular on college campuses and liberal crowds despite never being “politically correct”.  He was also often very thoughtful in the way he towed that fine line when tackling touchy subjects.  But in light of his sexual misconduct scandal, he must have figured that he permanently burned a bridge with that crowd so he pivoted to a crowd that doesn’t care that he sexually harassed multiple women.  This same crowd also tends not to think too highly of the Parkland shooting survivors for their gun control activism or trans and non-binary people.

The thing is, Dave Chappelle and Louis CK don’t give a damn about any of these right-wingers or their pro-Trump causes.  They’re just looking out for number one.  Breitbart wouldn’t write fawning articles about Chappelle if the focus was on him expressing discomfort over a white person’s laughter over a blackface sketch he was doing on his show.  They wouldn’t rally around Louis CK either if he was still telling jokes expressing confusion as to why women would want to date men based off violence against women statistics.  Conversely, Nike and Gillette don’t actually give a damn about putting an end to police brutality or toxic masculinity.  If they were to discover that they could make more money off of using “Blue Lives Matter” sentiment or objectifying women, they would do it in a heartbeat.  This is all this whole shit is.

I suppose that’s ultimately the joke in all of this.  I don’t find it very funny, but I suppose I’m just too sensitive, right?

[biofunmy]

The best TV of the decade? It’s a lot to sort out.

Impossible, really — and, at first pass, my picks for best shows of the 2010s wouldn’t look much different from most other critics’ lists: “Breaking Bad,” “The Americans,” “Game of Thrones,” “Twin Peaks: The Return,” “Veep,” “The Good Wife,” “Transparent,” “Atlanta,” “Fargo,” “The Crown” — that’s 10, right? Hit “send” and let’s get on with life.

But perhaps there’s another way to approach this stretch of much-too-much TV, and instead categorize the shared qualities that separated the decade’s very best shows from the heap of mediocre ones. That way, we can talk about this extraordinary period of scripted dramas and comedies without starting one last argument about where they rank.

I know readers only have time anymore to read lists, but bear with me. Here are the best kinds of shows we watched over the last 10 years. Many of them belong to more than one category — a sign of their greatness.

Anxiety-makers

These would be your nail-biters, seen mainly on prestige cable, often on Sunday nights.

Why we gorge on these cliffhanging, often upsetting dramas on the night we most need to rest up for the week ahead, I’ll never know, but we went to bed desperate over characters and story lines we couldn’t control: In AMC’s “Breaking Bad,” probably the decade’s finest work of story engineering and execution (and yes, I’m aware it premiered in 2008), when will Hank Schrader (or Skyler White) finally catch on that Walter White is the meth kingpin of New Mexico? Some of those close calls (the train episode!) and slow-building conflicts were almost too hard to take.

The decade’s other great adrenaline-producer, FX’s “The Americans,” aired on Wednesday nights, where the panic attacks seemed more manageable. How long would it take FBI agent Stan Beeman to figure out that his friendly neighbors, Philip and Elizabeth Jennings, were deeply embedded KGB spies? How much does Paige know? Will they outlast the Cold War? Showtime’s “Homeland,” meanwhile, neatly bundled our post-9/11 anxieties with the mental problems of a CIA agent who thought she could save the world.

These are but three shows that gave America’s TV addicts a strong case of the jitters. Others tried and sometimes came close. I started out the decade worrying way too much about Rick and the other doomed survivors of AMC’s “The Walking Dead” (until I gave up on them entirely a few years ago), but the show’s success is notable for its stress-inducement, which was so strong that the network started an aftershow, “Talking Dead,” to help audiences cope with the latest gory developments.

Immersive portraits

These were some of my favorite shows, broadly defined by the word “dramedy” (because they were sometimes intensely funny), but better described as character studies, portraiture — of characters I’ll never forget: Amy Jellicoe in HBO’s “Enlightened,” followed by Hannah Horvath in “Girls.”

Many shows in this category can in some ways be regarded as selfies. Louis C.K., who quickly became persona-non-grata, nevertheless triumphed with “Louie,” which made it possible for similar shows to act as a mirror that not only reveals a personal nature, but a universal quality that potentially can be shared by the audience. I’m thinking here of Donald Glover’s “Atlanta” (FX), Aziz Ansari’s “Master of None” (Netflix), Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s “Fleabag” (along with “Catastrophe”) and Pamela Adlon’s “Better Things” (FX).

This genre also, at long last, helped television achieve the diversity it had for too long failed to produce. Issa Rae’s “Insecure” (HBO) is a triumph in the way it both inhabits its creator’s viewpoint as millennial black woman, yet welcomes viewers of any sort.

To that list add Hulu’s “Ramy” and “Pen15,” HBO’s “Looking” and Comedy Central’s “Broad City” — any show where a viewer potentially discovers someone unlike themselves: different age, different background, different race. Or, more importantly, a viewer at long last sees themselves in the main character.

Washington certainly saw its uglier self in Armando Iannucci’s gloriously foul-mouthed “Veep” (HBO), the true definition of comic relief and on-point satire at a time when politics grew unfathomably absurd.

Metaphorical profundity

The best dramas in the 2010s reflected a larger message about the society that watched them — sometimes obliquely, sometimes bluntly. Despite its notably weakened final season, HBO’s “Game of Thrones” has proper claim, I think, to be deemed the show of the decade, but not just because it grew so popular. It’s because how much of it seemed to eerily echo our surroundings: Climate change (and denial of it); shocking acts of violence; widespread social collapse; galling politics; extreme disparities in class and wealth; weapons of mass destruction . . . I could go on.

Timing is everything. Hulu took a 1985 dystopian novel — Margaret Atwood’s “The Handmaid’s Tale” — revved it up and released it just as the Trump administration began detaining, locking up and banning immigrants, appointed conservative judges and looked the other way at nationalist fervor. The metaphor there was almost too applicable; fortunately, the show was strong enough to withstand the hype.

Viewers learned how to find meaning in just about any show — the betters ones made it more compelling: AMC’s “Mad Men” was a beguiling search for the soul of the 20th century; CBS’s “The Good Wife” was a wicked running commentary on politics, technology and modern relationships; NBC’s “This Is Us” was (and still is) a fascinating rumination on the essence of what makes a family. (Note to all you Ancestry genealogy nuts: It’s not just DNA.)

Happy-snarky-sweet

Certain comedies just make us feel better (and also sharper, wittier — empowered, even) no matter how many times we re-watch old episodes. It’s in the camaraderie aspect, the life lessons, the archetypal arrangements, the snarkiness glossed over by group cohesion. It’s a continuation of what began in the best multicamera, studio-audience, ersatz-family sitcoms (“Cheers,” “Seinfeld”), rejiggered for a wired generation. Most of them aired on NBC: “Parks and Recreation,” “30 Rock,” “Community,” “The Office,” “The Good Place,” “Superstore” — now joined by “Brooklyn Nine-Nine.” A few others aired on other networks, giving viewers a similar satisfaction: “The Big Bang Theory” on CBS; “Modern Family,”“Happy Endings,” “Cougar Town” and “Black-ish” on ABC.

Transformative tellings

In addition to finding new narrative styles and (quite belatedly) focusing on overlooked demographics, TV turned out to be an excellent venue for recasting an old story from a fresh perspective or enlightened distance.

I’m thinking here of FX’s “American Crime Story: The People v. O.J. Simpson,” a compelling departure from the way we popularly regarded that murder trial. It inspired others to dramatize previous events with a corrective, even courageous new viewpoint — such as Netflix’s “When They See Us,” about the unjustly imprisoned teens who were wrongly coerced into confessing to a 1989 Central Park attack on a female jogger.

Crime wasn’t the only subject in need of a remix. Both “Downton Abbey” (PBS) and “The Crown” (Netflix) succeeded because of the way they re-examine extreme privilege, without preventing us from enjoying the luxurious roll in it.

Some shows were revelatory in more subtle ways: Jill Soloway’s “Transparent” (Amazon Prime) masterfully wove a woman’s journey with the entirety of modern American Judaism, enlightening its audience to more than just the trans experience. And Showtime’s “The Affair” played with the very nature of truth, telling the story of marital infidelity from competing — and crucially different — perspectives.

Impossible puzzles and true art

If the decade in TV will be remembered for anything, it will likely be the complexity of some shows. The weirdness. The unexpected swerves. It turned its viewers into perpetual puzzle-solvers and conspiracy theorists. After beginning the decade with an unsatisfying wrap-up of ABC’s “Lost,” co-creator Damon Lindelof returned on HBO with a confounding take on “The Leftovers,” finally mastering the balance between befuddlement and momentum with “Watchmen.”

There are, finally, two standouts — and they challenged my ceaseless harangue about reboots. One was Noah Hawley’s expanded and wholly reimagined take for FX on “Fargo,” a Midwestern crime saga first seen in Joel and Ethan Coen’s 1996 film classic.

The other was David Lynch’s long-delayed but staggeringly beautiful sequel to his 1990 TV sensation “Twin Peaks.” Critics argued, somewhat pointlessly, whether “Twin Peaks: The Return” (Showtime) was a very long film or a strangely protracted TV series.

I can settle that: It was nothing short of pure art — unexpected, absolutely original and layered with deep, trippy meaning. Of all the TV I slogged through in the 2010s, it’s the show I most look forward to someday watching again.

Sahred From Source link Entertainment

from WordPress http://bit.ly/2td087u via IFTTT

[hopelesstvaddict]

ASOUE’S CONVOLUTED PLOT COMES TO ITS FINAL DENOUEMENT

It all led to this. With The Penultimate Peril, ASOUE manages to encompass all the ingredients that made its success - adults being incompetent, children being too bright for their own good, self-deriding humor and dry fourth wall-breaking, big emotional moments (good and bad), secret organizations and of course, how could it not end up in flames ? The Penultimate Peril sees the Baudelaires arriving at the Hotel Denouement, which again channels Wes Anderson - The Grand Budapest Hotel, anyone ? - along with Kit who of course, cannot go with them because the too rare adults who seem competent at what they’re doing cannot be too helpful. Otherwise, where is all the fun ? Kit explains that the concierge of the hotel are twins, Frank and Ernest (both played by Max Greenfield), with each one belonging to one side of VFD. The entire first part of this penultimate installment is dedicated to a funny and intriguing detective game where the three children try to discover who is the mysterious J.S who has summoned (almost) the entirety of VFD while balancing their interactions with the aforementioned concierges. Going up and down the immense hotel - a grandiloquent retro-chic styled set reminiscent of the luxurious Squalor appartment, only make it ten times bigger - yields hilarious situations such as the oblivious children asking ‘Are you Frank or Ernest ?’ and getting a simple ‘Yes’ as an answer, the darkly noir-ish giant clock which has nothing better than to utter the word ‘Wrong’ each time it rings, or the numerous returning guest stars.

Because yes, just like in the book, it seems all the people that the Baudelaire orphans ever encountered on their disastrous misadventures - everyone that managed to survive, that is - is somehow present in this hotel. If this sounds like a big reunion for a grand finale, that’s perhaps not too far-stretched because this two-parter actually works as a finale of some sort. In addition to Mr Poe (sans Mrs Poe, unfortunately), we are happy to reunite with Larry-Your-Waiter (Patrick Breen), still trying and failing to be helpful, Babs (Kerri Kenney-Silver), Vice Principal Nero (Roger Bart) - who himself introduces a seemingly random piece of information on the deeds of Prufrock Preparatory; of course, this show has taught us to never let anything slip past our attention and this late in the game, this cannot not be relevant to the rest of the story - and Jerome Squalor (Tony Hale), still bitter and completely afraid of his ex-wife (though he technically still refuses the validity of the ‘ex’). Originally, Sir (Don Johnson) and Charles (Rhys Darby) were also present; due to the actors’ unavailability, they were written out. Given how this whole event ends, it’s perhaps for the best but Jerome still undirectly mentions Charles, referring to he and himself as an item.

The whole guessing over the identity of J.S is compelling enough for those who like me, had forgotten the book. There are enough characters with the initials to fit the bill, chief among them the dearly departed Jacques Snicket (Nathan Fillion who unfortunately only appears in a photo). But Jacquelyn Scieszka, Jerome Squalor, Justice Strauss (Joan Cusack) or Julio Sham could also be candidates. The first part of the installment culminates in the ‘denouement’ of the J.S mystery as well as the Frank/Ernest question, introducing one last VFD member, fan-favorite Dewey Denouement, the triplet to Frank and Ernest (because in this series, everything works better in threes). It must be said that Max Greenfield does a great job in portraying the three brothers. The show makes the relationship between Dewey and Kit more explicit than it was in the books, which allows two things. First, a sense of shock and suspense, as the pair is seen kissing and we are made to believe we are seeing Ernest, the evil brother; second, it makes it that much harder to watch when another trusted ally is ripped away from the Baudelaires. Just like Olivia (Sara Rue) at the end of last season, Dewey meets an untimely death, only this time, Olaf is not (really) to blame. The scene in question, which caps off Part One, is beautifully framed as everything unravels for both the orphans and Olaf himself who finally alienates himself from Esme. Lucy Punch really nails the break-up scene and leave it to ASOUE to finish it off with a daddy joke. But it’s really the subsequent scene that follows which is the real highlight of this first part. As Olaf threatens to harpoon Dewey, Violet, Klaus and Sunny all place themselves in front of him and reason with him over the attempted murder. It’s really the culmination of the twisted relationship they reluctantly, unwittingly developed - no more running, no more hiding on the part of the children, and no more chasing them around on his account. The face-off could very well be amplified to epic levels. Instead, it is handled subtly, quietly and in a very soothing way. Olaf’s arc continues to evolve and we see the facade cracking further. The Man With A Beard But No Hair and The Woman With Hair But No Beard may play a villainous role in The Penultimate Peril but overall as characters, they are more like the Sugar Bowl, narrative devices used to propel their former pupil forward, rather than formidable adversaries on their own.

The scene ends with one of the most beautiful cinematography the series has achieved yet (in fact, the whole episode is aesthetically wonderful) with the dead Dewey floating above the secret underground library that no one knows the existence of, now that its owner is dead. But again, this is upstaged by the next scene, which reveals the long-suspected identity of a cab driver who offers the Baudelaires a ride to safety after the catastrophe they caused. This season, Patrick Warburton gets to interact with the rest of the cast as his Lemony meets for the first (and only) time the Baudelaires. While the scene is insignificant for the children themselves, present-day Lemony goes to great lengths to explain how this brief and failed meeting caused him regrets and prompted him to go on his investigation about the lives of the orphans, which is essentially the premise of the whole show.

The second part is dedicated to Olaf's trial in what could be a reference to the Seinfeld finale which staged a similar story for its own conclusion. With the show coming to an end, it finally brings satisfying answers as to the backstory of VFD and the fateful night at the opera that provoked the schism. After 23 episodes of obscure references and mentions, Beatrice (Morena Baccarin) finally makes an (instantly delightful) appearance. The flashback is compelling and while clearly a toned-down adaptation of what transpired in the books, it does work in terms of explaining what turned Olaf against the Baudelaire and Snicket families. Back in the present, the trial allows Olaf, the Baudelaires (in their iconic book outfits! I swear, the love and respect for the book material sometimes really amazes me) and Esme to shine as they each take the stand. The theme of morality comes back in full stance as Olaf turns the table on the children and forces them to admit that in surviving, they too have sometimes indulged in grey areas. It's an arc that played out for two seasons and seeing the Baudelaires finally come to terms with it is a good payoff.

This being the de-facto finale, the producers pack as much as they can and there are many references to the show's trademarks - Olaf is cut short in one of his musical numbers, several recurring phrases return - but not so much as character arcs closure. Larry is the only definite casualty of the episode - the death itself was (kind of) hilariously stupid and fitting for the character but it is a bit unnerving to really think about it and about the contrast it draws when Olaf later cannot bring himself to kill the Baudelaires - but the fates of the giant supporting cast is left dangling in the air as the episode comes to a fiery end. Olaf plans to poison the entirety of VFD with the Medusoid Mycelium but he needs the Sugar Bowl first. The Baudelaires convince him to burn the hotel instead, stemming from the logic that a fire will be slower than the poisonous fungus and will allow some to escape. That's unfortunately overestimating the capacity of reasonable logic from the adults in this show and we are treated with a delightful scene where the Baudelaires try to warn various characters of the danger only to be rebuffed; even when adults do believe them, there is nothing further they can do. And so we bid goodbye to Esme, Carmelita, Mr Poe and pretty much all who assembled at the hotel. The feeling is perhaps frustrating but that's exactly how it happened in the books and at this point, the story has worked itself enough to not make us care that much about the characters that are left behind. I must say that I have never seen fire depicted so strangely beautifully anywhere else. The visuals really defy the expectations I had when imagining those fires as I read them.

The Baudelaires sail off with Olaf with two more lessons; justice can be blind sometimes, courtesy of the Man With A Beard But No Hair and the Woman With Hair But No Beard, and sometimes you do fight fire with fire. In trying to prevent Olaf from mass-murdering an entire hotel, they have possibly achieved the same result. The fire thus destroys almost the entirety of VFD, both sides of the schism, all evidence that could damn Olaf and perhaps the Sugar Bowl which was dropped in the secret library. This could very well work as the final scenes of the series. So many things are now resolved. We know the backstory of VFD and now it does not exist anymore. We have searched and failed at finding the Sugar Bowl and now it doesn't exist anymore. We have tried to prove that Olaf is guilty and we have (kind of) but the proof does not exist anymore and we instead have come to the realization that the Baudelaires are not as pure as they want to appear. In terms of what this series was about, this is as close to full-circling as it can get and as good a sign that the end is near as the visual clues - none better than the opening scene from the season premiere where Lemony walks through the now-decaying underground tunnels. Present-day Lemony continues his monologues in those tunnels, repeating that for him, the story of the Baudelaires stops here as he lost all traces of them. Past Lemony is seen sharing a heartfelt moment with Beatrice which explains why he's been on the run all series long and features, for longtime fans, his iconic declaration of love, in a toned-down version of its original form as it appeared in The Beatrice Letters. (If you have nothing else to do, treat yourself to the entirety of it, you won't regret it. As Beatrice says, he 'always had a way with words'.)

To complete the many parallels harkening back to the beginnings, we are treated to a reprise of the song ‘That’s Not How The Story Goes’ while moments from the past seasons recap the unfortunate series of events that graced our screens for three years.

The Slippery Slope | The Grim Grotto | The Penultimate Peril | The End

[tabernacleheart]

Jesus satisfies us.... the Holy Spirit empowers us. Yet both concepts frustrated me. If more of God was all I needed, then I should have been set. I had the Holy Spirit. So why did I still feel so restless? After praying over us [last Sunday, my] Pastor added an addendum to his benediction: “One more thing before you go. If you’re feeling distant from God or don’t feel the Holy Spirit working in your life, can I suggest prayer and fasting?” Ah, of course, when life gets complex, just go back to the basics... Most of us pray. Even some non-Christians pray. Fasting is not nearly as popular, yet it is one of the most overlooked solutions to our issues. Why? Because I believe a lot of the discontent that we experience in this life comes from forgetting who we are in Christ and who He is in us. It's not a problem with people or circumstances, but a loss of internal power. So when you're feeling disconnected from God, fasting -- along with lots of God time -- plugs you right back in. Now I know that at the mention of fasting you may have winced a little. “Skip a meal? No TV? Turn off the music? I can’t do it!” As dwellers of the Western world, we are not keen on depriving ourselves of things – especially things that are essential to our survival. Going without food or abstaining from entertainment doesn’t sound like fun, and believe me, it’s not. However, if sheer difficulty or mechanics are your only reasons for not fasting, then let’s try to see it in a different light. Fasting is a vacation for your soul. Think about it. Your body is needy. Comedian Jerry Seinfeld used to say that if your body were a car, you probably wouldn’t buy it. It needs too much maintenance: the brushing, the bathing, the exercise, the feeding, etc. All day long you’re catering to your body’s needs. So fasting gives you a break. You get to leave the desires and demands of the flesh and concentrate on your spiritual health. It also puts things in perspective. It’s hard to get upset about money when you’re hungry. It’s hard to get down about troubled relationships when you’re hungry. Pretty much all of the issues of life dull to a whisper when up against the roar of an empty stomach. And that emptiness that you physically feel on the inside drives you straight to the Cross. As you begin to step away from your needs, you become more tuned into His. Now, fasting and praying are a two-for-one deal... they must go hand-in-hand. I’m not necessarily talking about: “Dear Lord, thank you for this day.” You’ve got to spend time with God… like you would with your spouse. It’s about conversation – back and forth. Talk to Him, and more than talk, listen. Yes, God has a voice, and you can hear Him when you get quiet. Try it. I did it – which was a feat in and of itself being the music junkie that I am. Just a few moments during the day made all the difference. I discovered a fact that changed my prayer life: God is incredibly chatty. When given the opportunity, He will talk to you all day. Jeremiah knew it. He wrote the words of the Lord in Jeremiah 33:3: "'Call to Me and I will answer you, and I will tell you great and mighty things, which you do not know.'" So it's clear that prayer and fasting are the answers, but where do you start? Many people will tell you that you must be "led of the Holy Spirit in order to fast." That's true, but if you haven't fasted in years, then let me go ahead and tell you that you're probably due for one. Don't wait for inspiration to drop from the sky. As is often said, Jesus told his disciples "when you fast," not if you fast (Matt. 6:16). My pastor was right, and a soul vacation was in order. I knew that if I were ever going to get in touch with the Holy Spirit and find this mysterious satisfaction in Him, I would have to take some time, clear my mind and my stomach, and get to the root of what my faith is all about.

Jennifer E. Jones; Fasting: The Soul Vacation

[maevefiction]

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 23

When we arrived at Estelle J Wilson, there wasn’t a parking spot to be had. Even those earmarked for funeral attendees were taken, and as we drove past the main entrance to head around the block in search of one for ourselves, there they were…news vans from local affiliate stations WWL, WDSU and WGNO. A few feet down I spotted the paparazzi, four or so as best I could tell, lurking and waiting.

I turned to Tom, smirking. “Weh-hel, THIS is going to be a lot more interesting that I anticipated. Apparently.”

He pulled into an open space two blocks down from the funeral home and put the car in park. His right arm rose, then settled on my shoulder, hand grasping the back of my neck, massaging gently. “You okay to do this?”

I shrugged, enjoying the way the fabric of my dress seemed to float around my arms. His massaging continued in spite of my movement. “I’d like to tell you to turn around and go back to the hotel, but somehow I don’t think me not showing up for my mother’s funeral would improve upon the situation. And I know I’ll have to talk, because, hey-o, I can’t even run past them. But, on the bright side, at least I had the sense to wear my yoga shorts underneath the dress so there’s no chance of a wardrobe malfunction during any of this.”

Tom laughed, lines appearing around his eyes, relaying the story of a man who enjoyed doing so and had for his entire life. “Thank god for small favors. If I happened to get a look under there at this point they’d all be in for far more of a show than they’re equipped to handle.”

“Dude. Was that supposed to help? Because…not helping.” I leaned over and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips, then opened my door. The ibuprofen I’d taken had helped immensely, and I was fully capable of walking without crutches, albeit slowly. Chances were that using them, though, might garner some sympathy from the press. Tom watched me pull them out of the car, eyebrows raised. “One, I can move faster if I use them. Two, I want everyone to feel sorry for me. Sorrier. Don’t ruin my moment, Hiddleston.”

“Perhaps I should carry you instead if it’s attention you’re seeking.”

“Not attention. SYMPATHY. If you carry me, people will feel LESS sorry for me. Not part of the plan. Plus, it’s like, two blocks and you’d fucking keel over. Also not part of the plan.”

He got out of the vehicle and came round to the passenger side, my messenger bag slung over his shoulder. “Thomas, you are a god among men, unashamedly carrying your woman’s purse.”

His eyes lit up, and he pointed at it. “This? This is NOT a purse, darling. THIS is a EUROPEAN CARRYALL.”

I raised my forearm up as far as the crutch would allow. “Nice. Second Seinfeld reference of the day. High-five.”

The palm of his hand connected with mine, tenderly, and our fingers twined together. “Remember, I’m going to be right there with you. And if you don’t wish to say anything, simply don’t say anything.”

“Um, I’m sorry…I’m supposed to be the one telling YOU that, yes?”

He grinned impishly. “Tables, Maude. Oh how they turn.”

As we reached the news vans, the noise began, seven people shouting out questions all at once, cameras and mics pointed in my direction. The cacophony caused my brain to shift into crisis management mode, and I stopped dead in my tracks. Tom stood at my side, transferring his weight from one foot to the other. My gaze moved from one reporter to the next, looking them straight in the eye. The noise died down, then out. I took a deep breath and began to speak.

“Hello there. How’s everyone doing today?” They turned to one another, shoulders shrugging, faces contorting into expressions of puzzlement, unsure as how to proceed. “Under normal circumstances, I’d be happy to give you all the time you need, but I’m running behind as it is and have in inkling that it would be just a wee bit disrespectful if I were to be late for my mother’s funeral service. That being said, I think I DO have enough time for one question from each of you.” I pointed to the young, dark-haired woman in the floral print dress holding a WWL microphone.

She cleared her throat, then motioned to her cameraman to begin recording. The other two crews followed suit, and I assumed the paps were recording as well. “Ms. Gallagher, do you have anything to say regarding your ex-husband’s arrest?”

I had plenty to say. So, so much to say…ninety-nine percent of it unsuitable for television. “First, allow me to mention that the Winchester family has been in my thoughts ever since I heard the news. I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like to have someone invade the sanctity of your home, where you’re supposed to feel safest. And someone armed…it must be terrifying. Mr. Bonaventura’s actions were deplorable, and I trust that the Louisiana justice system will dole out the appropriate punishment when the time comes. Next question, the gentleman from WDSU. And please, call me Maude.”

He was short, chubby and dressed in a tweed jacket that I was certain made him feel like he was in the ninth circle of hell. “Maude, is it true that he intended to break into your mother’s home but chose the wrong house in error?”

Suppressing the smile that fought to spread across my face was a daunting task. “That’s my understanding, yes.”

The reporter from WGNO didn’t wait his turn, and exceeded his inquiry limit within seconds. “Why would he need to break into her home? I’ve seen a copy of the will…it was to go to him, without question. Are you contesting it? Have you taken possession illegally? Did you lock him out? Is that why he did it?”

What a total douche canoe. I wanted to slap him, but stared him down instead as I prepared my reply. “Gosh, I think that was five questions, not one. I know, I know…math is hard, right? Anyway. My mother died intestate, which means the entire contents of her estate passes to me according to Louisiana law. The will that was in Mr. Bonaventura’s possession was revoked, and another was not created. You can contact her attorney, Bartholomew Stevens, if you have additional questions regarding the matter. As to why he did it, my guess is he came back to New Orleans expecting something, and when it turned out that something was actually nothing, he grew rather malcontented. Next question, you in the red T-shirt.”

He held out his phone to better capture our exchange, sun creating a halo around his blonde, curly hair. “Maude, is it true that Mr. Bonaventura cheated on you with your own mother, and that your father killed himself because of it?”

Tom muttered something under his breath, and I hoped I was the only one who’d heard. The inner calm I felt in the face of a question that would have caused a breakdown just days earlier made me feel damn near invincible. “Absolutely correct.” I pointed at the young Asian woman dressed in a bright purple track suit and pink Converse Hi-Tops. “You’re next, please.”

Her face was an expressionless mask. “According to Passages Hospice, you never visited your mother there prior to her death. Is that accurate, and if so, why?”

“Yes. That’s correct. As to why…my mother suffered from alcoholism and Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Though, in actuality, it was everyone close to her who did the majority of the suffering. Her cause of death was alcoholic cirrhosis of the liver. The last time I saw her was in 1998, when I walked in on her and Mr. Bonaventura during an intimate encounter. No-contact is a widely accepted method for dealing with toxic people in order to facilitate recovery. I was contacted by the hospice when she passed as I’m the only next of kin. Gal in the tank top…your turn.”

The tank top was an old-school wife beater, paired with khaki shorts that reached her knees. Her white- blond hair was short on one side, long on the other, with pink tips. “My sources tell me that you’re an alcoholic too. True or false?”

My jaw tightened. They’d obviously been speaking with ‘mourners’ in spades, and it was no surprise that a good number of people here still thought of me as drunkard Mary’s drunkard daughter. “In September of 1996, my boyfriend was killed in a car accident. Shortly after his funeral, I discovered I was pregnant. Soon after THAT, I miscarried. I found myself unable to cope with such profound loss and used alcohol to self-medicate. Since I honestly can’t say whether I wasn’t capable of stopping or just chose not to during the time I was drinking, alcoholic is probably an applicable term. I’ve been sober for seventeen years, though. Last question, gentleman with the man bun.”

He laughed briefly, then frowned slightly, as if he was reconsidering asking what he’d planned to. “Hello, Maude. I spoke with Mr. Bonaventura’s current wife, Anna Beth, this morning via phone. When I asked her how she felt regarding his arrest, she expressed relief and indicated that he abused her verbally and physically. Is that something you experienced during your marriage to him?”

I gave a curt nod. “Yes. It was. Unfortunately, it was something I’d endured for years in my own home prior to marrying Mr. Bonaventura, so it didn’t seem abnormal to me until after I removed myself from the situation. If my sources are correct, Anna Beth was very young when she met and married him, as was I. It is my hope that this incident will allow her to move on with her life, heal and find the peace she deserves. Okay, folks. Apologies, but that’s all I have time for. Thanks so very much for your cooperation.”

Man bun raised his hand, then pointed to my walking boot. “Maude, I’m pretty sure we’re all wondering how that happened. Would you mind…”

My eyes rolled skyward. “Damn, and here I thought you wouldn’t notice.” Laughter rang out. “I wore heels to dinner last night, and they got the best of me. Right down on my ass in the middle of the Palm Court Café. It’s just a sprain, two weeks and I should be good. Seriously, though…gotta go. You all enjoy the rest of the day.”

They stepped back and to the side, allowing us to pass. Four crutch swings later Tom appeared in front of me, the admiration in his eyes flooring me completely and freezing me in place. Two steps brought him close enough to lean in to kiss me, admiration replaced by ardor and fire, grasping the back of my neck with one hand, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth so forcefully that I came. It was a tiny orgasm, over and done in two seconds, but an orgasm nevertheless. His grip on my neck tightened, and I knew he must have felt me shudder. He deepened the kiss, and as our tongues met I heard camera clicks, faint, as if they were down at the end of a tunnel, far away. A distant repetition of ‘Excuse me, Ms. Gallagher?’ grew ever louder, finally snapping me back to reality. I pulled back, looked past Tom to discern the source, and was mildly humiliated upon seeing Reverend Thompson standing there. His face was as red as a cherry tomato, the flush extending down his neck and, I assumed, beneath his clerical collar.

He cleared his throat, hands clasped behind his back. “Ms. Gallagher, we’re about to begin. Follow me, please.”

Tom remained in front of me, a look of astonishment on his face as he mouthed the words ‘Did you…?’ I plastered a polite smile on my countenance, nodding at him as I addressed the reverend.

“Apologies, Reverend Thompson. Thank you for your patience. Lead the way.”

As we walked toward the entrance Tom fell into step beside me, whispering in my ear. “An orgasm. From a kiss. MY kiss. Man alive, I feel like a fucking rock star right now.”

My head spun in his direction, ponytail swishing back and forth across my neck in its wake, eyes narrowed. His mouth dropped open, then closed again as he reached out to touch my bare shoulder.

“Maude, I’m sorry, that was a dreadfully self-centered thing to…”

I grinned and shook my head, speaking softly as he removed his hand. “I’m just screwing with you, Thomas. That lip thing…it…DID something to me. Anyway. Allow me to assure you that you are a fucking rock star. MY rock star. And as an added bonus, it would have REALLY pissed my mother off to know that I was making out with the sexiest man alive at her funeral.”

“That’s not a title People magazine has bestowed upon me as yet, Maude.”

“I’m well aware of their prior woefully inadequate choices. But I just did.”

“And that’s infinitely more meaningful, of course.”

“Nice save, Hiddleston. If they don’t put you on the cover soon, though, they’re going to be getting some…calls.”

We’d reached the front door, and Reverend Thompson held it open for us. The service was being held in the same room as the viewing, and as we approached I could see it was packed well beyond its limit. After pausing for a moment to prepare myself to walk the gauntlet, I opted to do so without the crutches, resting them against the wall to the right of the doorway. Reverend Thompson motioned for us to enter before him, and Tom offered his arm. I gratefully accepted, and as we crossed the threshold all heads turned, row by row, gazes fixed upon us. Tom’s face was expressionless, the dark blue of his button down shirt reflecting in his eyes, black trousers sitting low on his hips, black leather tie perfectly knotted at his neck. Even less graceful than normal due to the height difference of my walking boot and my black Birki, I kept myself in check by counting the number of steps it took to reach the front of the room where the closed casket rested, covered in a blanket of pink roses. Two seats were vacant in the front row, on the aisle and next to Anne. The whispers began when we were halfway there, fifteen steps in. My head remained high, jaw firmly set, as I passed by the throng of people who’d decided attending the funeral of someone they hadn’t given the remotest shit about in order to obtain a firsthand account of the event so they could later spread any juicy gossip they managed to gather was an ideal way to spend a summer afternoon.

Tom continued to hold my arm until I was comfortably seated next to Anne, then took his place at my side. Anne patted my knee as Reverend Thompson half-jogged to the front and began. I put my right hand over hers and squeezed, and Tom reached out to take my left one in his. After the introductory portion of the service, I zoned out, Reverend Thompson’s voice becoming very similar to that of the adults in a Charlie Brown cartoon. All I heard was ‘wah wah, wah wah wah wah wah, wah wah’, and eventually even that faded away into nothing. Man bun’s words haunted me, and my thoughts turned to Anna Beth. I’d been strong enough to get away from Will on my own, but I’d actually had somewhere to get away TO, the funds to get there, AND enough to start over with. Those were luxuries she did not possess, and there were three children she’d need to support on her own going forward as well, another hurdle I hadn’t had to clear. Marrying at such a young age had more than likely put her in a position wherein she had little to no employment experience, and few marketable job skills…or none whatsoever. Though I’d intended to donate the proceeds of the estate sale to the Metropolitan Center for Women and Children, I found myself seriously considering sending them her way instead. It would have to be done anonymously, of course, and Barty already had a way to contact her. Part of me felt as if I’d be slighting the many to help the few, but in this instance it was personal. We had an ill-fated kinship, Anna Beth and I, born of lies emanating from a man who’d used us for his own nefarious purposes, violence and mental abuse his means of controlling us so we’d never dare to question a single blessed thing as he fulfilled his unscrupulous objectives.

The sound of the crowd around me rising to their feet derailed my train of thought, and I left my seat as fast as I possibly could, not wanting anyone to have the slightest indication that I hadn’t been paying any attention to the service. At all. Tom’s arm slipped around my waist, and we remained where we were until the rest of the room cleared. Anne offered to join us at the cemetery, asking to hitch a ride in our rental car as she’d taken a cab to the funeral. I was pleased to discover that the news trucks had departed, but the paps remained, photographing and filming Anne and I as we waited for Tom to bring the car round for us. At Greenwood it was just the three of us, the hearse driver, and the folks responsible for the interment procedures. I remained back at least fifteen feet from the crypt, silent the entire time, having already said my final goodbyes to the people who’d brought me into this world. We left for as soon as they began the closing process, and I looked back over my shoulder one last time as we made our way out of the garden, wanting this moment to be my last memory of my mother. Dead. Gone. Sealed inside a coffin, inside a mausoleum, never to speak new words that could hurt me ever again. And that was enough to shift the specter of the past from translucent to transparent…what used to only allow light to pass through while masking the details was now completely clear, entirely visible. The thing about the past is this…it’s always present. There’s no escape from it. You can run, you can hide, but it will inevitably find you. There is, of course, a better solution, one I’d finally been brave enough to attempt. Face it. Embrace it. Remember it. Learn from it. And, most importantly, try your best to not let it fuck your life up too badly along the way as you moved further and further beyond it.

Tom and I bid Anne adieu as we dropped her off at Café du Monde, then hurried back to the hotel so we’d have enough time to change, pack, check out, and arrive at the airport by four. Our flight was scheduled to leave Louis Armstrong International at five-thirty and arrive in New York at nine-thirty, and if the gods were feeling generous we’d be settled into my apartment an hour or so later. Or, I should say, our apartment. A foreign concept as far as I was concerned, but one that made me deliriously happy. And that was something I could totally get used to.

**************************************** The duration of our first-class flight was primarily spent sending each other naughty text messages, each one filthier than the last. Afterward there was much debate as to who started it, but I refused to confess even though I was guilty as sin. He was just sitting there, in his cargo shorts and white V-neck T-shirt, up against the window with the sun reflecting on his pretty fucking face, driving me insane.

The hollow at the base of your neck, right above your collarbones. My tongue needs to be there. Like, now. – M

Go ahead. No one will notice. We’re in the last row. – T

Hmm…is it me or did that make your nipples hard, Thomas? I can see them right through your shirt. Guess they’ll be the next stop for my tongue. – M

The first stop for MY tongue is going to be your mouth, Maude. Running it over your lips, your teeth, then thrusting it in and out over and over until your moaning alerts the passengers in front of us. –T

Back and forth we went, until the final exchange.

I’m going to work my cock into your ass, inch by inch, until I’m buried inside you. Then I’m going to slip three fingers into your pussy and fuck you with them as well, so I can feel my cock from the INSIDE through the oh-so-thin wall that gives both of us so much pleasure as I pound your ass relentlessly, my thumb massaging your clit until you want to scream…but since you can’t, I’ll be forced to cover your mouth with my hand in order to keep you quiet. – T

And just as you’re about to come, I’ll invite you to fuck my mouth. As soon as you pull out of me, I’m going to drop to my knees and suck your cock so hard you’ll see stars. I’ll sneak my index finger in my beside it at some point, get it nice and wet, then run it between your ass cheeks until I find that glorious pucker. My finger will keep moving round and round the rim as I keep licking at and sucking on your cock, loosening you up, stretching, until you’re ready…then in it goes. Then out, then in. Again and again. I’ll wait until I feel your rhythm start to falter, then I’ll press my finger down on that magical spot inside you and swallow you whole as your come shoots down my throat, hot and sticky. You’ll have bruises on your knuckles for a week from biting down on them so hard. – M

That broke him. He stood, put his hands in his pockets to hide his raging hard on as best he could, pushed past me and locked himself in the bathroom. When he returned he was smirking, and I’d thought I wouldn’t need to, but he kissed me, long and slow, and I found myself in the loo a few moments later, pants around my ankles as I attempted to rub one out so I could make it home without fucking him in the back of the car that would be waiting for us. Or on the plane. In front of everyone. My phone dinged, and I bent to pull it out of my pants pocket. He’d sent me a video he’d made during his turn, hand on his cock, jerking himself off, standing right in the same spot I was in now. That was all the inspiration I required, and then some. I deleted it as soon as I finished, then texted him to remind him to do the same. Even though his face wasn’t visible, it still wasn’t something that should be kept around. Despite the fact that I wanted to watch it a thousand more times.

As we circled LaGuardia, I began singing Frank Sinatra’s ‘New York, New York’. Quietly, I might add, until Tom joined in, then a good number of the other passengers in first class, turning it into an impromptu sing-along that grew loud enough as we reached the final chorus to warrant a shushing from the flight attendant. We disembarked, picked up our luggage, and found the driver holding a sign with GALLAGHER written on it. Tom had given the company my name in an attempt to avoid any unnecessary scrutiny, but it turned out to not make a difference as this was New York, where no one gave much of a fuck about how famous you were. I’d seen Madonna try to cut line at a bagel shop once, only to be rebuked none too gently by everyone already waiting, resulting in her taking her place at the back of the queue, laughing and saying she should have known better than to do such a thing on her home turf. There was not a single soul standing still as we followed the driver to the curb, everyone looking down and walking quickly as they sought to fulfill their own personal missions.

Forty-five minutes later we arrived at 250 Mercer Street in Greenwich Village/NoHo, a wide smile spreading across my face at the prospect of being home, growing ever wider when I turned to Tom and it hit me that for the first time since college, someone I loved was coming home with me.

He leaned over me, peering out my open window, craning his neck to see how high it went despite the fact that it was dark.

My hand found his thigh and settled there. “It’s 16 floors in some spots. Building was erected in 1888, renovated in 1979 and remained rental apartments until 1986 when it went co-op. My dad bought it in 1995, for exactly how much I don’t know. He signed it over to me for a dollar a few months later, and I didn’t pay any attention at all to the paperwork. Surprising, right? I’d have to pull the deed to find out the amount. Now it’s worth around eight hundred thousand or so, but I don’t care, because I am NEVER selling it. I’m on the 5th floor. And yes, there are elevators. Thank god.” I opened the door, stepping on my right foot gingerly. The pain was back, mainly because I was a fucking moron and not only forgot to take my ibuprofen but had packed it away in my suitcase instead of my carry on. The crutches were in the trunk, and the driver brought them around first for me, the followed with our luggage.

Tom came out on the curb side as well, stretching, arms up over his head, T-shirt riding up just enough to reveal his belly button and the start of his happy trail as he glanced around at the street signs and location. “The Village, yes?”  

“Technically it’s right on the border of Greenwich Village and NoHo. Best of both worlds and all that. Washington Square Park is right over that way…” I pointed in the correct direction, but it looked like I was pointing at air since it wasn’t visible. “You can totally see it from my window.”

Tom tipped the driver, who’d brought the luggage right to the door for us when he realized it was way too much for one person to carry. The glass door opened towards us, and out stepped Murray Goldberg, my favorite doorman. His uniform was black, with gold trim and buttons, exactly the same as it had been when I’d moved in, and, according to him, as it was when he started back in 1987. He was in his mid-sixties, not much taller than I was, with thinning white hair and gold-framed John Lennon glasses.

“Well, well, well…look what the cat dragged in. If it’s isn’t Miss Maude Gallagher. You were supposed to be back for the July 4th weekend…how I worried and worried!” He chuckled as I half-embraced him, crutches tucked to my side with my elbows.

“Oh please. You are so full of shit, old man. You didn’t even notice I was gone. And besides, look what I brought back with me!” I released him and gestured to Tom. “Murray, this is Tom Hiddleston. Tom, Murray Goldberg.”

Murray glanced at Tom, then rolled his eyes at me. “So THIS is why you went AWOL.” He held his hand out to Tom, who shook it vigorously. “Nice to meet you, Tom. Welcome to 250 Mercer.”

Tom grinned. “Thank you, Murray. Pleasure to meet you as well.”

Murray looked puzzled for a moment, and I knew it had dawned on him that Tom was an actor, but he shrugged it off and poked my arm, suddenly switching to a thick Brooklyn accent. “Englishman, eh? Whatsamatta, New York guys not good enough for ya anymore?”

I snorted. “Nice. Offend him before he even has a chance to see the place.” We all laughed, and I pointed to my walking boot. “I’m injured. I don’t suppose you can dig us up a luggage dolly from somewhere?”

He shook his head at Tom. “Been back less than five minutes and she’s already a giant pain in my ass. Wait here.”

They loaded the cart while I watched, and Murray wished us a good night as we headed for the elevator. Tom wheeled it inside and I punched the 5 button quickly, hoping to avoid company. My strategy was successful, and less than a minute later the stainless steel sliders opened, my white apartment door visible from where we stood. It turned out that crutches were useful for holding elevators, but I felt completely useless as I watched Tom struggling to drag the cart up over the lip and onto the grey carpet.

I pointed to the left. “C503. That’s us, right over there.” Grabbing my messenger bag off the pile of luggage, I fished out my keys, put the correct one in the deadbolt, then pushed down on the handle. The door swung inward, and I reached in and flipped the light switch. I turned around to see Tom, his eyes wide and slightly misty. I grinned, leaned my crutches against the sideboard and threw myself at him, arms wrapping around his waist. “Welcome home, Thomas.”

****************************************

To the right of the door, behind the bathroom, was a metal staircase that led to the loft. Tom unloaded all the luggage there, then brought the cart back downstairs to Murray. I fumbled around in the sideboard drawers, looking for my spare apartment key. It was way in the back, buried under entirely too many takeout menus…all of which reminded me that I was starving. The stove clock said it was 10:55. Most of the Thai and Chinese places would be closing soon, but The Bagel Café/Ray’s Pizza was open, and they had a huge menu to choose from.

“New York, I have missed you so very much. Where else can I get breakfast delivered to my door in the middle of the night if I want? And cannolis. And cake. And…”

My musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. I opened it just a crack, peeking out and pretending to be wary. “Yes?”

Tom raised a brow and grinned.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

He feigned exasperation, arms crossed, frowning and tapping his foot.

“Oh, right. You’re that totally hot guy who followed me home from Hawaii.” I opened the door fully. “Well, come on in, I guess.”

Tom grabbed my waist, bending down to kiss my neck. “Totally hot guy wants to drag his totally hot woman to bed, but he’s suffering the effects of food deprivation and fears his performance will suffer unless calories are consumed forthwith.”

I passed him the extensive Ray’s menu, pulled my phone from my pocket and hefted myself onto one of the kitchen bar chairs, mentally noting that finding the ibuprofen should be next on my to do list. “Let me know what you want. I’m going to add my stuff to the order while you’re deciding.”

I ordered a Meat Lover’s Omelet with bacon, home fries and toast, an everything bagel with scallion cream cheese, a slice of strawberry cheesecake, a large orange juice and a large black tea with cream and sugar. Tom was still perusing the menu. I managed to be patient for a bit, but then leaned forward, putting my face between him and the paper.

He laughed. “Someone’s nearing hangry level orange.”

“Mmm, not quite yet but if you don’t make up your mind soon things may get ugly before the delivery guy gets here.”

“Well, no one wants that, do they? I’d like a large Irish Crème coffee, a cranberry scone, a Gone Bananas smoothie, a Greek salad and a deluxe cheeseburger with bacon, please.”

“Dude, your order is even weirder than mine. I’m impressed.” I entered his items and my credit card info, then pressed the submit order button. Forty minutes according to the website, which was unusually fast. I slid off the chair and stood on my left foot as I reached for the crutches. “It’ll probably be an hour before it gets here. There should be some water and soda in the fridge, though, in case you’re thirsty. I’m going to go scare up some ibuprofen so I can maybe walk upstairs at some point this evening.”

Tom shook his head. “No, stay. I’ll get it for you. Where is it?”

“In one of my suitcases. I think. All I really know is that I packed it.”

“Do you keep any here in the house?”

My mouth dropped open. “Well, shit. Yeah. The bathroom, cabinet under the sink. Wonder how long it would have taken me to come up with that? Oy. It’s the door behind you, on the right.”

He came back, shaking the bottle, then went around the corner into the kitchen, opening the stainless-steel refrigerator door and letting out a low whistle. “Soda, water, basic condiments and some whipped butter. Toss in some ancient moldy leftovers and a few bottles of beer and it would be identical to mine. Though mine’s just white. Not fancy and shiny like this one.”

He passed me a bottle of water across the counter, and I quickly swallowed two tiny red pills and stuck my tongue out at him. “It used to be much shittier, trust me. Back in 2011 everything was in such bad shape I said fuck it and decided to put the money into renovating it. Plus, I needed more storage options. For books. Want the official downstairs tour?”

“Indeed I do.”

I pointed at the kitchen. “Where you’re at…that’s the kitchen.” He smacked my hand gently and rolled his eyes. “Countertops are concrete, back splash is glass tile. Gas stove over yonder, mainly used for boiling water and reheating takeout food. Next to the fridge is a Fisher & Paykel DishDrawer. It’s a dishwasher, but it pulls out like a drawer and takes up a lot less space. We won’t talk about how much it cost. It’s embarrassing, and I didn’t really NEED it but damn, it’s really fucking cool. Don’t open it, though. I think I may have forgotten to do them before I left. After seeing my mother’s house I don’t like the cabinets as much as I used to, but at least they have stainless pulls instead of gold. Bathroom next.”

Tom rounded the corner and followed me the seven steps to the washroom. “You’ve already seen this. And you’ve looked in the cabinet under the sink. Hopefully there’s nothing too embarrassing in there, though I tend to keep most of that stuff in the loft. Floor is teeny tiny marble tiles, walls are subway tile, because, New York, and the shower is black glass tile. I love glass tile. I have no idea why, but I do. The overhead light in there is awesome…I abhor showering in low light. Can’t see shit. The fixture is a Grohe, and it’s got a rain head AND a massager. In retrospect, I would have gone with just the massager because the rain head gets water in my eyes constantly. And here we have a sink, and the excrement receptacle. Very exciting, no?”

He chuckled. “Excrement receptacle. I’m stealing that one, if you don’t mind.”

I waved my hand. “Sure, fine, why not. Now, let’s adjourn to the living area. To your left is the sideboard, where I keep all the crap I don’t have another place for. The mirror above is handy for making sure there are no boogers hanging from my nose before I leave the house AND for watching myself burn things in the kitchen. Up next are these very cool metal lockers that function as my coatroom and general storage. They all have a different combinations and I don’t know the two on the far end so please don’t turn the dials. To your right is a dining set that is not anywhere within the scope of my usual taste, but it was a gift from Anne when I first moved in and part of her parent’s estate so it remains. Recovering the seats in black leather made them more palatable. There’s a matching hutch on the wall behind it, which I use for books instead of dishes. The rug is from her, too. Sorry, am I rambling? Just let me know if you want me to shut up.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m enjoying this immensely. This…this is the place you call home. I want to know every detail, the how, the why, the significance of each and every thing and what it means to you.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, well, we’re only going to be here for three days and I did plan on leaving the house to do stuff so…anyway.” I gestured to the windows. “Those are eight feet high, the ceilings are twelve. There’s a remote on the coffee table that opens and closes the shades. Some people don’t mind parading around in the buff in front of the entire city, but I try to avoid it. Emphasis on TRY.” He laughed. “The bookshelves are custom…I designed them myself. Underneath are storage cabinets, which hold more books, my speakers, and some DVDs and CDs. The rug under the coffee table is also from Anne, and the white sofa…I have no explanation for it other than it had clean lines and metal feet. How it’s remained unscathed in light of my clumsiness is a mystery. The chaise part is pretty cool, though, and the TV’s on a swivel so I can turn it in that direction. Both pieces of art are things I found while traveling. The one by the windows was at an estate sale in Boston, and the big one is from a gallery in San Francisco.” I held my hands out to the side at shoulder level. “So, that’s it, I guess. If you turn around you’ll see the loft, and as soon as my meds kick in we can go up and unpack. Oh, wait. One more thing. Here’s your key.” I reached into my pocket, then held it out to him, allowing it to lay flat on my palm.

He lifted it slowly, the pads of his fingers brushing delicately against my hand, the connection creating a current of what felt like a thousand volts. It surged through me, and when I met his gaze he burst into tears. I wound my arms around him, crutches falling to the floor with a metallic whump, kissing each wet cheek in turn as my own eyes began streaming.

Wiping at his eyes with the back of one hand, his other arm around my waist, he smiled softly. “Wow. Sorry about that…I just…I…not even seven days ago I was certain I’d lost you forever and here we are, actually, finally in New York and you’ve welcomed me into your home…into your LIFE…and I’m just…I’m…so…so…GRATEFUL, Maude. And thankful. All that we’ve learned about each other, how much closer we’ve grown…which, honestly, I wouldn’t have believed to be possible, given how close we already were…I feel…unburdened. Lighter. Freer. I feel…ALIVE. So very much alive.”  

His mouth was on mine before I had a chance to speak, and when he did the lip thing again I lost my mind completely. One hand was up my shirt, caressing my breasts first over then under my bra, the other down my shorts, inside my underwear, two fingers abruptly thrust inside me, pumping in and out. I glanced at the stove clock as I undid his zipper and wrapped my hand around his throbbing cock. It read 11:25. At least fifteen more minutes before dinner arrived. Plenty of time.

He whimpered pitifully as I began stroking him, voice breaking when he managed to speak. “Oh…Maude…I wanted to wait and take my time but…ohhhhh, GOD…I’m afraid I’m more than a little desperate for you, my love. May I have you, please? Now?”

I walked him backward toward the coffee table, fumbled for the remote and hit the button to close the shades, then grabbed waist of his shorts and pushed them down over his hips until they fell unceremoniously to the floor. He did the same with mine, dragging my panties with them, pausing to allow me to lean on him as he lifted my right leg to pull them over the boot. Our mouths met again, mine open and waiting for his tongue. His kiss was at first gruff, then yielding, gasping as I sought to imitate the forcefulness he’d displayed when sucking on my lip, pulling his into my mouth with a ferocity I hadn’t known I possessed. I felt myself being lowered onto a surface, which I assumed was the chaise portion of the couch, but wouldn’t have cared if it was a bed of nails.  

Suddenly his weight was upon me, cock hard and leaking against my entrance. He broke the kiss to hold my head in his hands, our foreheads almost touching, gazes locked. “I love you, Maude. I will love you all of this life, and in each and every one that follows. I will love you as the world turns to ash around us. I will love you as the universe collapses into itself, and in the blackness of the eternity that awaits, I will remain, with you, at your side, holding your hand, never to let go. This love…it knows no bounds. It is forever. Two souls made one, together unto infinity. I love you. I love you.”  

He shifted his hips, pushing himself inside me, slowly, stilling when he hit bottom, and I wept against his shoulder, hands at his waist under his shirt and grasping his hips. He wrapped his arms around me, hands in my hair, his lips on my neck, kissing every spot over and over.

“I love you, Thomas. Never let me go. Please. Never let me go.”

We began moving together, all gentleness cast aside as we raced at breakneck speed to feel the completeness that resulted only when the physical and the spiritual combined. His hips slammed against mine so savagely I knew I’d wake tomorrow to bruises, and my hands moved further up and under his shirt, fingernails digging in, then raking down his back as the head of his cock nudged my cervix and I came, pleasure and pain intermingling, a chasm opening and suspending us in a single instance of time and space as I felt his cock pulsing in tempo with my walls, then erupting its liquid fire inside me, like a volcano buried deep in the ocean floor.

The only sound in the apartment was our breathing, both of us panting and gasping. Tom rose up on his elbows, conducting a visual inspection to determine if I’d incurred any damage.

“Fuck, Maude…I’m so sorry…that was positively barbarous of me…are you all right? And your ankle…I forgot about THAT altogether…”

I placed my palms on his chest. “Barbarous is a bit harsh, don’t you think? I’d go with delightfully uncivilized. Either way, it was electrifying. And I’m fine. How’s your back, though? Let me see.”

“My back? Why?” He whipped his shirt off and slipped it under me as he pulled out and turned around. Eight welts stretched from his shoulders to his waist, four of them bleeding in spots.

My hand flew to my mouth, dampening a loud gasp. “Now that there, THAT’S barbarous. You. Are. Bleeding.”  

He craned his neck to see behind him, then got up and went to look in the sideboard mirror. I got up, and hobbled over to stand next to him, clad only in my T-shirt.

“Tom…shit…I’m like…SO sorry. Yikes. I’ll go get some peroxide…”

He started at his reflection, head tilted, puzzled. “I didn’t feel that. At all.” As he turned around to face me, his hands reached for mine, grasping them. “What I DID feel was you. Us. I want you to know, Maude, I meant every word of what I said. Every word.”

“I know. Thank you. I…I…I’m not sure if I can formulate a reply that would convey my own feelings adequately…”

A kiss cut me off, his tongue forcing its way past my lips and teeth to reach mine, and when he pulled away he pointed at the couch. “You already did, my love.”

The blush began in my already flushed cheeks and spread all the way down to my breasts. My gaze shifted from his face to the floor. “Oh.”

Tom chuckled. “Suddenly modest, are we?”

I let go of his hands in order to cover my face. “Oh. My. GOD. Shut. UP.”

He roared with laughter, the sound echoing in the open space that surrounded us. I turned on my heel as quickly as my injury would allow and opened the bathroom door, looking back at him over my shoulder.

“I’m still going to get you some peroxide, in spite of the fact that you’re a complete and total asshole.”

The laughter continued as I searched the drawer, then abruptly ceased as someone knocked on the door and loudly announced ‘delivery for Gallagher’.

I took off my T-shirt and tossed it to Tom. “Here, put this on. And don’t forget your shorts. I’ll hide in here. There’s tip money in the dish on top of the sideboard.”

Figuring I might as well pee while I was in there, I giggled as I sat down on the seat. “Excrement receptacle. Damn, I’m fucking hilarious.” I could hear Tom thanking the delivery guy as I finished up and washed my hands, followed by the sound of the door closing. He was in the kitchen when I came out, removing the food from the bags and placing it on the counter, sorting it into two piles. I put my underwear back on and dug a T-shirt out of my luggage. There was no way to be sure whether it was clean or dirty, but it passed the sniff test so I deemed it wearable.

We ate at the dining table, him snatching half my bagel and a good sized chunk of my omelet. The cheesecake and the scone went in the fridge so we’d have something on hand that passed for breakfast, and as he loaded the silverware into the dishdrawer (which had been empty, thankfully) a yawn escaped him, so powerful he dropped the fork he’d been holding.

I bent to pick it up, remembering he’d been up hours before I had. It seemed a physical impossibility that the press encounter and funeral had occurred earlier that same day, and suddenly all I wanted to do was lie down with him snuggled against me. He closed the drawer and pushed the start button, and I reached for his hand.

“Come on, you. Time for sleep.”

He let go, shaking his head. “We haven’t unpacked, nor have we texted Luke and Simon to let them know we arrived safely and to find out if they have as well, and we still have to call Norman…”

I grabbed my phone from my shorts, which were still on the floor where he’d dropped them. “There. Luke and Simon texted. Where’s your phone? Let’s text Norman, too.” He passed it to me. I typed quickly.

Hey – just wanted to say thank you for reaching out, and no worries. The internet, as they say, is forever. Appreciate you noticing and providing clarity as to the source. Hope filming the rest of the season is going well. Best, Gallagher & Hiddleston

I turned the screen so Tom could read what I’d written.

He nodded. “That’s perfect. Thank you.”

I hit send, set my phone on the sideboard and turned off the downstairs lights. “Let’s go. Move that ass.”

He snorted and followed me up the stairs. It felt like it took forever with the stupid boot, and I dreaded having to pee during the night.  I turned back the covers, then stood by the dresser at the bottom of the bed and removed my shirt and panties, Tom’s arms winding around my waist from behind, holding me in place so I didn’t fall over as I wrangled the underwear over the boot.

His voice rumbled in my ear. “So, this is where the magic happens…”

“Ummm…if you’re referring to solo magic, yes. Lots of it. But other than that, no. Not in a long, long time, anyway.”

His grip loosened and he stepped back, silent until I turned around.

“Maude, I’d forgotten he lived here with you…I’m…”

I raised my hand to stop him. “Shush. There’s no longer room in my heart, or my head, for anything other than what’s right in front of me. What happened can’t be changed, nor would I want it to be. Life is meant to be experienced in the moment. If you dwell on the past or focus on the future, you miss everything in between. Trust me. I know. And I’m so very, very done with missing out. Now get those clothes off.” I held out my right arm, palm up, towards the platform that held a queen size mattress. “This way to my bed, sir.”

[lavieboheme930]

52: On The Right Track

What do you typically have for breakfast? Nothing really.

Where do you purchase most of your clothes? Shops in my neighborhood.

Do you have any opinions on Anna Delvey? Who

What are you currently streaming? Seinfeld on Netflix. I grew up watching the show and I still love it to this day

What do you typically order when you go for coffee? iced coffee with honey and oat milk

Anything you’re looking out for at the thrift? I don't go to thrift shops

Who are your favorite YouTubers? None

Describe your skincare routine. Cleanser and moisturizer

What’s your typical morning routine look like? It's nothing really. I wake up and get ready

Are you still playing Animal Crossing? I never played it.

How has the pandemic specifically affected you? It's killed my mental state with the stupid mandates for sure. I'm just so glad to be going back downtown

Where’s your favorite place to go for brunch? I don’t go anywhere for brunch.

What’s on your nightstand? My record player. And my other nightstand has records on it, Elton John Barbie Doll and a bunch of Elton John stuff

What do you think about before falling asleep? Usually it's about Taron

What is your main source of anxiety? So much.

Any bands or artists you’ve recently discovered? no

What are your goals for today? Nothing today, just resting

What kind of games do you play on your phone? A bunch really.

Are there any packages you’re waiting to come in through the mail? yes

Describe your favorite t-shirt? I don't wear t-shirts

Do you have a specific aesthetic? No

Skinny jeans or mom jeans? Skinny jeans.

What’s your favorite 90s cartoon? New Kids on the Block cartoon

Describe the moment you realized you were falling in love with someone. Hmm..I don't even know.

Have you tried the feta and tomato recipe? I put goat cheese with my tomatoes

What’s your favorite sparkling water brand/flavor? No favorite.

What’s your favorite makeup brand/brands? Wet n Wild. Lipsense.

What’s your all time favorite movie? Rockerman

What are some female names you would name a baby? Emma

What about male? Richard, Robin

Do you have any subscription boxes? No

What did you purchase the last time you bought groceries? Goat cheese, pickles

What fictional creature would you like as a pet? FLUFFY!!!

Describe your favorite piece of jewelry. It's my Hanson ring. Bought it from Hanson. Their logo as a ring. Been wanting it ever since I saw Taylor wearing it in This Time Around video.

Have any local businesses closed that you’re sad about? not in my neighborhood, but some downtown did which makes me upset.

What’s the worst advice you’ve ever taken? No idea

How do you feel about your neighbors? They're nice.

What kind of dwelling do you live in? apartment

Have you been watching this season of The Bachelor? no. Never watched one episode

What’s typically kept in your purse/wallet? Not much really LOL

How do you feel about TikTok? I have it, but I hardly use it.

What’s the hardest thing you’ve done/been through? no idea

Did you/do you still have a Neopets account? I did

What do you look like on a day where you don’t leave the house? Nothing different than if I was going out.

Do you have any opinions on Amberlynn Reid? Who

Any current trends you dislike? All of them LOL