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#anyway I love my dear friend she is absorbing so many medias with me
ministarfruit · 2 years
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shoutout to the way the bestie described luke atmey because it will never leave my mind. I say this at least once weekly
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Comic of Luke Atmey walking into the room with Phoenix narrating, "This man, walks into my courtroom, dressed like a gotdam christmas present," and Maya interrupts by saying "He's a detective."
In the corner, there's a drawing of a sparkling present box with a Luke Atmey bow and the text "Look at me! Look at me!" hovering over it.
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ruinedbylanadelrey · 1 year
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Hi dear 👑! I love your writing, would you mind write a meet cute age gap fic with our beloved Frankie?! I love him so much!!
AHHHHH!!!! I'M SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS:)
FRANKIE IS MY HUSBAND!
basing this off of a relationship i had with a military man.
warnings: age gap (legal, unspecified), fluff, meet cute
Dating culture in today's age is terrible because no one wants to date. They just want to hook up and then that's the end of the road. You find yourself on dating apps swiping endlessly, you changed the distance and even the age. Frankie was finding himself doing the same thing, he was single and felt like it was time to get back out there. It was more pressure from his buddies than how he felt. 
'Frankie,' 
You went through his profile, he was much older than you, and saw just pictures of him and his friends. They were a good-looking group of men, he seemed to be the introvert of the group just by the way he posed in the group pictures. You studied his face, the patchy beard, his dark brown eyes, and how in almost every picture he wore the same hat 'STANDARD HEATING OIL'. You found it endearing that he had a favorite hat. 
'US Army Vet'
A veteran, it's what sealed the deal for you. You swiped right and moved on to the next people. No one caught your attention the way Frankie did. 
When Frankie stumbled upon your profile, he felt his heart try to leap out of his chest. You looked so lively and always had a smile painted on your face in each picture, you were beautiful and made his heart stop.
You had all your social media linked to your profile. You were younger than him it was what he noticed after going through the profile for 5th time. He swipes right, thinking you would never match with him. But the screen flashed 'MATCH'. 
He became giddy and felt a surge of confidence run through his body. His fingertips typed out a message without him realizing what he was doing or saying. 
'you're so beautiful, I would love to get to know you,'
He felt stupid for sending it. He thought that his message would just get lost in the many messages you get from other men. You looked at his message and saw how different it was from what you'd been hearing from others. You looked at his profile again and saw that it was the older guy who was a veteran. 
'you're bold for wanting to talk to me,'
Your answer reeled him in, why wouldn't he want to talk to a beautiful woman who supposedly has some interest in him? 
'i wouldn't say bold but eager to go on a date with a pretty lady,'
You could feel the butterflies fly around in your stomach, you haven't had this feeling in a long time. A date is what got you feeling dizzy in the head, the nervousness, the getting to see the handsome man in front of you. 
After a week of talking to Frankie every day, you have decided to go on a date just to test the waters between the two of you. Frankie was a wreck because this is the first date he's been on in a long time since he got divorced. "Fish, it's a just date," Benny laughed at him while Frankie fixed his hair underneath his cap. 
The permanent frown on his face was more prominent due to the stress he was feeling. "What does she look like anyway?" Benny asked, Frankie sighed and didn't want to share you with the world just yet. He liked that he had something to himself. "I'll show you her if we get through this date," Frankie promised,
He liked you, a lot. He liked how you always had something to say, how you talked about your day like it was a mission that you completed, and how you asked about his time in the military made him think that you had a thing for men in uniform.
His assumption was right. He liked the way you thought. You weren't self-absorbed like some women. You always turned the conversation around to him, asking how he is, and what did he do that day, and asking questions about him.
You entered the coffee shop with your legs feeling like they were going to give out. Your whole body was shaking because this was the first date you've been on, like an actual date. No plans for sex afterward. 
It made you feel human, not like an object for later. Time started to pass a little too fast and you saw that Frankie was supposed to meet you 45 minutes ago, your tummy started flipping inside. 'Maybe he was too good to be true' 'Maybe he thought you were too young for him' your thoughts started eating at the last bit of self-esteem you had left in you. 
You had enough of waiting and headed for the door, you had your head down while you walked out. You didn't notice that you were about to walk into someone.
You bumped into them and were about to fall on your ass when a strong arm caught you, "I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going-" You looked up to see the man you were supposed to be meeting, Frankie was holding you against his body. A smile was crawling on his face, you looked like a deer in headlights. "I'm sorry for being late, I usually am never late," Frankie said as he helped you stand up on your own. 
He was in a red t-shirt and khaki cargo pants with his signature hat. His fluffy hair poked out at the bottom of the hat. His scent of laundry and sandalwood overtook your senses.
You felt your face heat up from what could be embarrassment or how beautiful his brown eyes looked at you. "I thought you changed your mind about me," You said as you looked at the ground, his fingertips tilted your head up so he could look at your face again. 
"I never go back on my word," He chuckled, lines formed around the end of his eyes, it was charming. He took in the way your eyes were big and sparkled, the way your hair fell around your face, how your skin felt on his fingertips. "Now, can I buy you a coffee to make up for being late?" Frankie asks, you nodded your head while his hand was still on the small of your back. 
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chouchinobake · 2 years
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Ten characters, ten fandoms, ten tags
i've been tagged by @b-lizi, thank you dear x) sooo *cracks knuckles*
Nico di Angelo, 『Percy Jackson series』 : this character is one of the most interesting in the whole riordanverse, and my fav obviously. he's been through so much, and alone, he faced death, horror, time, his own feelings, the way he's been educated, loneliness, literal hell, and still he's fighting and stays a sarcastic badass bitch with an enormous heart. love my emo boy <3
Grell Sutcliff, 『Kuroshitsuji』 : my supreme goddess *^* no seriously this woman is my big crush of the series (with Gregory Violet, sweet baby), and i wish we get to know her backstory soon because yana you can't drop an information like that and not developing it, you c a n ' t. i really like the way she just lives her life the way she wants and doesn't give a shit about what others can say about her. she's so strong, and completely insane, and funny, and a sweet dumbass, and passionate, and i love her sm dnfkfksfn
Shougo Makishima, 『Psycho Pass』 : as an antagonist, he's to me the best. one. ever. i mean, his motivations to do what he did were just so valid?? he did use the wrong methods, but he was so right, he even realized what was wrong in this society before the main characters did, and he's the one that enabled them to open their eyes and really think about how dystopic their system is. many would compare him to light yagami but i do not agree. he sticked to his convictions from the beginning to the end, know : "i want people to be able to think by themselves and make their own choices, may them be bad or good". what a king
Double Trouble, 『She-Ra』 : my absolute crush of the series. they're so chaotic, so sassy, so dramatic, that's everything i want, that's everything i need. AND ofc they're the first enby rep i saw in a piece of media x) if they were to order me to join the dark side i totally would lmao i'm a chaotic evil for them
Irene Adler/James Bond, 『Yuukoku no Moriarty』 : she's THE love at first sight of these last years. i didn't have any crush in ynm, and i thought it was strange because they're all so good(-looking lol). and then i understood my heart was only ready for her, call me a silly romantic person but arghkgkfl she's incredible. her convictions are beautiful and she uses her status to break the law in order to piss the nobility off and destroy a society she thinks is rotten to the core. thinks outside the box, doesn't give a darn about people's judgment, assumes her choices, doesn't let people walk all over her. she's perfect
Jung Myeong-Seok, 『Extraordinary Attorney Woo』 : okay i haven't even finished the series yet, i have two episodes left tbh, but i couldn't not mention him. he's kinda different from the type of characters i like, but i recently realized i liked characters like him : strict, serious and professional, but who actually are big softies with a golden heart and who care for others. he completely got me the sec he smiled, i'm so weak omg. (andhessogoodlookingimlosingit)
Haruka Hashida, 『Blue Period』 : my tastes in side characters being so high in this list i just realized. anyway. this man is so weird and yet so down-to-earth and logical it's almost weirder. his thoughts about art, painting and likes and dislikes are just so true, he manages to bring the readers to really think and reconsider their perspective. he's also the one that helps the most the mc re-think about his own art and kinda frees him from his prejudices and the limits he imposes to himself. supportive character/20
Pina, 『Beastars』 : mamma mia is anyone surprised by this ? he's the kind of sassy bad bitch i love and manages to hide his big heart and actual care for his friends behind a sarcastic and self-absorbed attitude. he's so goddamn funny, pretty (in an animal beauty scale) and just brings the peps and light atmosphere the series needs since it gets darker and darker
Esmeralda, 『The Hunchback of Notre-Dame』 : i'll only be talking about the disney movie here because i haven't read the novel yet (gonna do it soon, victor hugo is a god). she's my favorite disney character tbh, for a lot of reasons. she's to me the most altruistic, just, kind-hearted and lovable character of all. she has every right to hate religion since the whole world hates her for "religion said so". she has every right to ask for something for herself since she's always had to fight in order to just survive. instead, she asks to a god (that she's been told hates her) love and justice for those who live without, reminding that everybody is a child of god and has the right to be loved, and doesn't ask for anything for herself. she plays with laws, she helps others and she fights for justice with joy, passion and insolence
Ryuunosuke Akutagawa, 『Bungou Stray Dogs』 : i really hesitated between him and chuuya, but i think i have more things to say about aku. i didn't like him at first, but i progressively understood him and had affection for him, he's my son now. his psychology is very interesting, especially when linked to his past and the original author's life. he's a really sad character, but also kinda funny, touching and such a stubborn brat omg. his evolution his the best and i look forward to see what he'll become (and i prey so he can actually have a chance to become something fjfkxks guys i'm so scared rn)
i talked sm lmao, never ask me about my fav characters i'll give you 500-page essays. i don't think i can tag many people, so it won't be "10 tags" sorry sorry. soooo i tag @gradually-watermel0n @shimy-deko @mariaoz @orphabirds @the-bloody-sadist + anyone who wants, have fun x)
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tipsydipsydo · 3 years
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Der Geliebte
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Pairing: Jungkook x artist! Reader
Gender of the Reader: female
Word Count: 6.4k 
Rating: 16+
AU: non idol! Jungkook x artist! Reader AU!
Genre: strangers to lovers AU; friends to lovers AU! (idiots to lovers AU!); love at the first sight! AU; soulmate to lovers! AU (kinda?); unbelievable amount of fluff; a little angst (fluffy angst!!,); tiny amount of smut (one paragraph xD)
Warnings: tiny bit of smut/some sexual tension between both of them; Jungkook is a poor shy thing and is fucking nervous around the reader all the time; teeth rotting fluff; both are so in love with each other that they’re getting stupid to not realize it; both are insecure that they’re not meant for another... just fluff, fluff, fluff and painfully obvious pining over each other! 
A/N: Hallelujah, I finally did it! After I made Sibi @borathae​ wait over three months for her Christmas + Birthday Fanfic I finished it two weeks to late for my sweetest Darlings Birthday! I am so incredibly sorry that I made you wait for such a long time and really, Sweetie, you have all the rights to be still mad at my stupid ass! Nevertheless... I love you so goddamn much and I hope the fic made at least a little bit up for it... Love you!!!! 💕 💕 
Summary: You and Jungkook met right at the first day you opened your own atelier in Seoul after you had to leave your old home behind you. You love paint canvas with landscape motives, other people just roll with their eyes when they hear that you choose such usual, almost boring things to paint. Not so Jungkook, he seems to be different than most of visitors. It’s almost like he can read your feelings through your paintings...
Status: Edited (I am sorry for any still existing errors in here!) 
[Links]:
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「© tipsydipsydo」
This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!
I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!
That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.
Thank you.
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* Jungkook’s POV * 
"In what are you getting yourself into, Jungkook?"
 I quietly ask myself as I get rid of my clothes behind the paravent and throw the dressing gown over his body which you laid out for me. My hands are sweaty, they tremble slightly and my heart beats wildly, as if it wants to jump right out of my chest. Excitement spreads throughout my body, leaving a faint feeling in my stomach and a certain blush rises in my cheeks. I still can't believe what I've gotten myself into . But... you looked at me so pleadingly with your dear and downright innocent eyes that I would have done anything for you with that look of yours. I want to make you happy, see that happy and contented smile on your lips, which always makes a whole horde of wild butterflies break out in my belly. 'Normally I was the shyness and silence in person and with you... with her, I feel for the first timesomething like peace and security. Especially when I consider how shy I usually am around women.', I ask myself and I don't really know the answer to that. But what can I do against my feelings? I don't really know, on the one hand they scare me, on the other hand they feel so exciting and new that I don't want to eliminate them at all.
I don't even know exactly when the whole thing started. In which moment my feelings for you grew, when I felt more than just fascination and admiration for you and your artwork. Six months ago, a small studio had opened in my district, your own studio. On the day of the opening I simply went to it of pure curiosity, I had always had such a weakness for art and photography.
I can still remember exactly how I stood in front of one of your works and was literally speechless and overwhelmed by this picture and all his small details. This painting represents a classic image of the countryside, which was often to be found everywhere. But this work was different. So full of small details and ornaments. It was so much more... As a viewer you can see a beautiful clearing, which is surrounded by trees and protected from too many curious eyes. The ground of this clearing is overgrown with dense and lush green grass, which from the incoming sunlight almost invites you to let yourself fall into the grass. It reminds me instantly of my carefree childhood, when I rolled in it without overthinking my actions too much and those times when I playfully wrestled with my best friends around until our clothes had grass stains all everywhere. I could almost smell the scent of wild, untamed nature. The longer I look at the picture, the greater the longing became. Maybe I could visit this beautiful place one day, together with my partner, my significant other. Playing around with each other, chasing your beloved one until you fall into the grass breathless laughing and cuddling. Maybe we could have a picnic there and feed each other with homemade sweets? 
I didn’t know that such a "simple" landscape painting could touch and awaken so much more in me, in my soul. Suddenly, such a wanderlust came over me that I gasped for air and a heavy lump formed in my throat. My whole body was tingling and my heart was literally screaming to get away from this dreadfully grey and monotonous daily routine of my boring single life, for at least some weeks. I want to go to this place, where I could draw the warm and fresh, natural air could deep into my lungs and pamper myself with homemade delicacies. Just to let the soul dangle and don’t stuck with my closely clocked work life. Maybe sleep until 10 o'clock in the morning and then maybe have a nice nap later. Enjoy the warm nights and hear the crickets chirping. This longing was... irrepressible. This particular wanderlust for nature, just to be out of the city, this longing for exactly this abandoned and untouched forest clearing literally overwhelmed me. What was it for an artist who could trigger such feelings and emotions in me?
I had been so absorbed in the artwork that I had not even noticed that a person step next to me. "Do you like the work?", asked a soft melodic voice, which spoke perfect Korean, but was pervaded by a light accent, which I could not quite assign. I flinched a little, but this bright, happy laugh gave me a tingling goosebumps all over my body. What a beautiful laugh... I turned to the person who was the owner of this beautiful voice. I was startled when I realized that the artist and owner of this studio was standing in front of me personally. I recognized her again, as I had seen a small photo of her in the newspaper article that drew my attention to this beautiful studio in the first place. Already in this picture she had radiated something so strong, colorful, cheerful and lively, which caused an excited flutter in my stomach. 
I admit, I already laid an eye on her just by her appearance. Unfortunately I always had a hard time getting to know people ever since, let alone to talk to women. And now having you, Y/N, personally standing right in front of me, made me feel fluffy and excited in my stomach. Nothing is left of this otherwise so sassy and self-confident  man that I used to be. Only a nervous and stodgy twenty-three-year-old idiot, who did not know what to say or wanted to say, now stands in front of this stunningly pretty and intelligent woman.
Her eyes sparkles like jewels, full of joy, struck me with interest and a playful smile lays on her lips. "Did you not understand my question?", she asked kindly, but nobly reserved. Immediately a rosy puff settled on my cheeks and I stuttered nervously: "Y-Yes, excuse me! I... I was just somewhere else with my thoughts and was completely surprised that they were addressing me personally.... Your works are truly unique! They still show such ‘usual’ motifs and yet they are so special because of these finely elaborated details and this passion with which this work of art was painted. They really are... Unique artworks that you do not forget so quickly. Even for untrained eyes as my owns, I can see that a talented artist has worked on it. I am very impressed by your work, especially this work here!" You could hear the honest admiration from my voice and my heart leapt as she reacted bashful to all of my compliments.
"Thank you, really, thank you so much! I really appreciate to hear such nice words like yours, even if it is rare. I am often criticized for my ‘lack of creativity’, caused by my chosen motives. I just love the rough, almost untouched landscapes of my hometown, I try to depict the ‘normal’ as something beautiful, unique. I would like to ‘really see’ what we already take for granted again. As a wonderful creation, a work of art. Nature is a wonderful example of this, or the architecture of buildings as well. Architects are also artists, although unfortunately they are not seen as such. I just want to offer the obvious things a more meaningful space again.... People like you have become rare. I have observed how you have recognized the true meaning, this beauty and aesthetics in such a ‘usual-looking’ motif. And this pleases me so much that you can read 'between the brushstrokes'. Oh... Excuse me, I always talk way too much when someone shows an interest in art or music, my personal passions. Besides that, I have not introduced myself to you yet, I am Y/N! I was obviously so pleased to see your understanding, empathetic look at this work, if you understand what I mean... Anyway... I can guess that you knew my name already, don't you? What about you? May I know your name?", asked you, beautiful artist, with her really stunning smile.
I swallowed nervously, never before had a young lady mixed my emotions so much in me. Even the picture of her in the newspaper article, which I had read out of boredom in one of my lectures, got me so emotionallyconfused. I didn't want to say it in front of my teasing friends, but I had been really excited when I set off this Friday night. And now the creator of these works of art stood before me and seemed to want to have a longer conversation with me. My heart beats to my throat and I got sweaty hands from this nervousness in my poor body. Honestly, as soon as I wasn't surrounded by my clique of friends, I automatically turned into a nervous, slightly abashed blushing and stuttering guy who behave like an inexperienced teenager. 
In private life, without my best mates by the side, I am not so confident and daredevil. After all, I always had someone who could cover my back when things get tough, while I am on my own without anyone I know. You could usually only believe and trust, not control. That's probably why I struggled with interpersonal relationships. I always overthink too much and have some struggles with my self-confidence.
And now this attractive young woman looked at me with such interest and joy, just me. I was actually the reason for her interest. A joyful and blissful tingling seized every pore, every fiber of my body. Yes, in fact it was just me! Not my best buddy Seokjin, whom I have known since childhood and always sought the attention of everyone. It was no exaggeration to say that he was perhaps a little narcissistic, but only to cover up his own insecurities. Never would I have thought that someone would manage to get this personification of self-love under control. I admired his wife for standing up to Seokjin and keeping him and his dad Jokes at bay. Believe it or not, she of all people had the pants on in the house and knew how to deal with my best friend.
My gaze glided over the figure of the person in front of me and once again I took a sharp breath. I was so nervous to face her personally, a person I already deeply admired and had quite a respect for. I simply did not want to do anything wrong, even if this charm of hers was almost tangible and paralyzed my entire brain with its function. I can already picture how my mind waved wildly goodbye to myself and went to the summer holiday in the Caribbean.
This carefree smile and these beautiful eyes harmonized wonderfully with your complexion. Your features were awake and alive, seemingly always a slight smile surrounded the corners of your mouth, which provoked almost paradoxical reactions in my body. Your smile awake countless butterflies to flutter around in my stomach, which made me quite nervous and at the same time you radiated such a sense of security and calm, as if there was no reason not to get a word out of shyness. My gaze, which I hope examined you unobtrusively enough, wandered to your hands. You had long fingers, I could really imagine how they elegantly held the handle of the paint brushes and worked on these small details extensively in such a calm behavior. Which satisfied and concentrated calmness you possibly radiated while doing that...
A small, noble clearing of your throat again tore me out of my fantasies and speculations. God, what was I today but inattentive! How rude I must have seemed to you...
"Oh, sorry... I... I have not been able to keep my thoughts together all day..." I lied to seem at least a little more credible. Nervously, I pulled on the knot of my tie to loosen it up a little before I have a circulatory collapse. Before I went here, I thought for a long time about what I should wear for this occasion. Jeans and T-shirt were out of the question, too casual and almost an insult for your atelier. A complete suit, however, seemed too overdressed to me and so I decided for a black dress pants and a dark blue dress shirt.Understanding, Y/N nodded and gave me a cheering smile, which made my body tingle again. This woman drove me half crazy alone with his friendly gestures. How could it be that this polite lady got me confused right away?!
And somehow, it gave me a frenzy to leave my secure, anonymous side as a visitor to her exhibition and irrevocably reveal my true identity to you.
"My name is Jeon Jungkook."I answered in a slightly trembling voice, hardly daring to look into her eyes and rubbing my neck unobtrusively.
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* Jungkook’s POV *
If only I had guessed what would change in me, how you changed me. That so much more would develop from a pure interest and a simple formal business contact... that you want to make me one of your artworks.
I take another deep breath before I dare to step out from behind the dark red paravent. It is pleasantly warm in this room, I should not freeze, if I am already so freely clothed. My gaze wanders through the small room with the huge, floor-to-ceiling window, which floods the entire room with light. The walls of the room have been painted in a dark orange and red colors and dark wooden planks lay out on the floor. It looks so comfortable due to the warm, dark tones. The orange-yellow evening sun dipped everything into something so cozy... sensual. Somehow into even a little erotic?
Y/N wants to work a lot with the light of the evening sun in this painting, which could be a little complicated if it is not suitable or if it is cloud-covered. But if you have put something into your head, especially in relation to your art, then you do everything you can do to go through it! Also the changing forces of nature cannot stop you from trying to realize your idea. Sometimes, you’re  someone who is quickly frustrated and dissatisfied with yourself as well, especially when something doesn't work as  you wants it to. Nevertheless when it comes to your passion, drawing and painting, you don’t let your idea go away, if you want something, you’ll find a way to make it happen. These are qualities that I know all too well of myself and thus my fascination about you only grows even more. The more time we spent together and I get to know more and more sides of you, the more attracted I became to you.
Your art means a lot to you and you’re quite tough in this respect, can not be overcome by the reproaches and the crushing criticism. That’s exactly what I admire so much about you, having the courage to stand up for personal passion. When I get criticized, all too often I think about really giving up on it, so that I don't have to endure all this criticism anymore. And then I look at you. How focused you are in this moment and carefully prepare for your next project. How you adjusts you easel to the right height, let your self-stretched canvas snap into place, spreads brushes of all sizes and shapes on the small side table next to you and prepares youracrylic colours. I swallow again, as I watched this happen. I am about to become one of your next artworks.
A little uncertainly I walk towards Y/N, the thin dressing gown tightly drawn around my body... never before have I felt so naked and vulnerable. This here is something else. I feel something about it... I feel something for you. For this pretty lady, who sprays her cheerfulness around her and could conjure a smile on the lips of even the most grumpy person. This joy almost kills you, completely engrossed this person and gives you the feeling of floating. You will get the feeling of being welcome at Y/N. To be accepted, with all the flaws and weaknesses that one has. She just smiles at you so gently and lovingly and just says, it's okay. It's okay to be the way you are. Imperfect.
"It is precisely this imperfect, this contradictory and also unpredictable thing that makes us human. That makes us an individual and also interesting. If we were really all as we are expected to be, it would be boring and monotonous. The surprise is only a real gift. Each of us is a very individual gift to a very specific addressee, who is the only one who can truly appreciate this gift. Only then did the recipient find the right person as his gift... Well, if the recipient knows about his gift...", Y/N once said with such a certain look at me, when we went out to dinner together in a restaurant in the evening to clarify some details. I wanted to help her find good contacts in Seoul and help her sell her works.
I can still remember it exactly... it was a quite... extraordinary evening. I was of course once again incredibly nervous and excited. At that time, I did not want to fully realize how much I already like you. Secretly, I had observed my opposite. Your positive and friendly disposition had turned my head all around... and in addition, this beautiful body and her elegant fingers, which already haunt me in the most erotic way unintentionally in my dreams. 
I could not prevent my dream pictures from shooting through my head, which is why my cheeks turned dark red in embarrassment. These fucking fantasies in my head! My eyes stare at the cutlery as if it were incredibly interesting because I didn't dare look up. There were scenes in my mind that made my ears turn red and I would’ve loved to hide behind the menu card. Your body, which made her look like a Greek goddess.
Naked, body covered in sweat, your body shook in lust, you sit up with a wonderful moan... You are on top of me, I could admire your beautiful, almost divine body as you sat on top of me... and rode me. This breathtakingly beautiful distorted face of yours, as if all this pleasure you feel is carved in marble... lids closed, your lips, swollen from all the kissing, are slightly opened which let    your lustful whimpering escape. This grace and elegance, as you rose from me and  then lowered yourself again... as your hands glide erratically over my stomach, searching for support... you suddenly threw your head back and clenched even more tightly around my length. The addicting sounds you’ve made... it’s like the most beautiful melody in my ears... squelching noises and even more of yourjuices gushing out of your sweet, so sweet pussy when you came...
An all-too-familiar laugh tore me out of my extremely indecent thoughts, which quite relieved me at first. Until I raised my head and not too far away I recognized no one but my best friend Kim Seokjin, who made very questionable hand signals in my direction. Oh my God, no! I knew that he had recently changed his job and got accepted for a position as a chef in a new restaurant... but not in this Restaurant! He will never let me life after he found out I was on a “Date” with a woman...
Even though Seokjin was on the other side of the restaurant, I could almost feel his smirk on my own skin. Fuck it, just pretend as if you do not know each other and hit him really hard tomorrow morning in the gym where we meet up for our work out. I quickly turned all my attention back to the person sitting opposite me and tried to ignore Seokjin as best I could.
It was only at the end of the evening, when I had said goodbye to Y/N, that I realized that this meeting had much more of a date than a "business dinner". How familiar we had talked with each other... how much I had thought about licking Y/N the drop from the chocolate sauce of her lava cake from her lips... how it would be... to kiss and touch you...
A noticeable blush has settled on my cheeks as I attended our first meeting together... or even Date in this Restaurant thought back. Four months had passed since then and I suffered from longing for you. You would never see me like I saw you. The reason you wanted to draw me was simply that she needed someone as a model. In addition to landscapes and cities, you want to devote herself gradually to more other motifs. And since I have been the first inquired. Your pleading eyes made me say yes. But I know that for me you have  no more than the feelings for a casual friendship. It hurts to see how you flirt  around so casually with all those other people. I would never be the gift for you as you are for me. If only the recipient would notice that there is a given heart laying in your hands...
"Ah, Jungkook! I’m glad that you're ready!", your cheerful and melodic voice cuts through the silence of the room and you’re walking towards me with excited shining eyes. "Come~," you say and lead me to the chaiselongue, which is placed in front of the large window. The soft, orange light of the evening sun falls on the wine-red fabric of the restored chaiselounge in baroque style. The upholstery has frames covered in gold and also the lion feet on which this historic furniture stands are gilded. Everything was decorated with so many Details, it looks so incredibly elegant and luxurious. On the left side there are some cushions in the same color and an elegant design is carved on the backrest, literally inviting to get used.
"Surely you know the movie 'Titanic', right? Do you remember the scene where Jack used charcoal pencils to draw an nude coal picture of Rose as she laid on the sofa? I would like to draw you in a similar position. I hope it's okay for you if I look at you more closely without a dressing gown... i want to get an overview of your body proportions.", you say, looking me straight in the eye. I notice that you’re very concerned about my privacy and does not want to overstep any of my personal boundaries without my consent. I nod slightly at first until I get a clear yes over my lips. She looks at me silently for a few seconds before reassuring me once again that we can always stop at any time if I feel uncomfortable. Especially your patience and mindfulness of my boundaries shows me how important it is for you as well and how I actually relax noticeably. Y/N smiles cheerfully at me and I slowly loosen the belt of the dressing gown and let the last garment slide to the ground. I feel her in-depth look at me... he is not uncomfortable... only... exciting... in a few different ways.
I swallow again and lie down on the chaiselongue as instructed. You correct my arm and leg position, also rearrange all of the cushions correctly. To my own relief, you put a red cloth over my crotch area. Not that I am ashamed of anything, I am more than comfortable with you already... I just have some worries that I will get a visible problem if I constantly feel your look on my bare skin.
 "It should be able to guess something, but not be allowed to see everything right away...", she whispered with a smile, before her fingertips unintentionally glide tenderly through my happy trail. One of your last smiles are... not really to interpret. Then you return to your easel.
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* The Reader’s POV *
Carefully you sit down on your old painting stool, already quite worn out on the edges and stained with the most different types and tones of colors. It had originally been dark brown. You smile dreamily when you think back that you’re used to dangle your legs around when you were a little kid because it was way too big for you back then. For eighteen years now you have exactly this stool and this easel. They had been a gift from your grandfather for your fifth birthday. He had awakened the passion of painting and drawing in you and passed his talent on to you. A certain melancholy seized you when I thought back to how you used to paint your first real picture on canvas with your new easel in the old music room in your grandfather's country house. 
It had been the old, dusty grand piano, which must have been more than a hundred years old at that time. How the country house survived all these wars unscathed, you ask yourself to this day. Perhaps there had already been something magical about it at that time, which should remain untouched. Perhaps the small estate should remain an inconspicuous symbol of hope, the hope that at some point the sun and peace will return when the unbearable suffering and sorrow of this cruel time is over. When the wars were over and all those seeking protection who had fled to this country house were able to return to their own homes again. This house, this estate you can explain your childhood with a single word. Home.
You lift your thought-lost look from your empty, folded hands and look to Jungkook. He takes your breath away every time you see him. He is so special, such a wonderful and yet you firmly believe that he has not been chosen for you, such an ordinary woman as you are. He would belong to someone else with whom he would be happy, although he is the only one who was able to understand and read your works, the language in them. It... it had been such a beautiful moment when, six months ago, he stood in your newly opened studio, so absorbed by the painting of the forest of your childhood. All the other visitors had only looked at it briefly and smiled wearily at the fact that it was again only a landscape painting, but did not grasp what the story behind this work was. Why the artist chosed this very motif, to see, to feel what the creator wanted to communicate through the work. 
But Jungkook had been different. He had given the work, your personal heart, a chance to unravel the true meaning behind it. He did it slowly, bit by bit with his eyes... grasped with his whole mind and heart and finally let himself be influenced as a whole. You could tell from his body reactions that he felt exactly what you had felt when you painted it last summer. Longing. Infinite Longing. Mixed together with melancholy, a little homesickness and sorrow to a unique emotional color. The day you painted it was the last time you saw the house in your official possession. Your grandfather had left it to you. But unfortunately you lacked money, you had to pay some debts and with the best will you could not earn the money in other ways. So you had to sell it with a heavy heart. Your beloved birth and childhood home and the associated lands, you had to sell your true home away. The picture is the only thing left of it. And Jungkook was the only person who understood what you wanted to express with the painting. Longing. My Homesickness.
When all these sensations came upon him, he involuntarily clenched his hands tightly, his chest lifted and lowered quickly, his Adam's apple hopped repeatedly. His eyes were glassy. He experienced your longing as directly as you did. He... is so special. So infinitely amiable. He... he is the only person who’s able to read your true feelings in your works. He is able to read between your brush strokes.
So today you will try him... to paint a confession of love with this act. Maybe he could read... what you feel for him. Even if you know that you will probably never see him again. Because you would not be the recipient of his love and affection. He's just too... too... gifted for a simple artist like you. He would never be your gifted person.
Your gaze glides tenderly and caressingly over his body. Trying to absorb every little detail of his body, his charisma and his character into you and let it flow into the painting. Every birthmark you want to put on the canvas and hold on. You want to show Jungkook how beautiful he is. How godlike he lies before you on this majestic chaiselongue, how masculine and muscular he is, as if he wanted to embody an Adonis. You want to paint every muscle, even the smallest visible muscle, on the canvas in a realistic manner, you want to capture the strength and security that he conveys to you over and over again and make it visible to him. And yet... his gaze often corresponds to that of an intimidated, insecure fawn, which does not dare to want to get up on his legs on his own. The fear of falling again is too big. Through this painting you want to show Jungkook what he really is, what he represents for you and what you feel for him. He is... so contradictory. He is strong, godlike, powerful... and at the same time, so infinitely uncertain, vulnerable... almost pure.
Silence enters your little studio, only the regular breathing of the other and the muffled noise of the busy world outside the door could be heard. Here... here, it feels like time is standing still for a moment for the two of you. Your shared eternity had begun.
To your happiness that it is summer right now and it stays bright for a long time. Today you take more time than usual to mix colors. You want to mix a shade that perfectly matches his skin tone. You want to get the exact color of his black hair down onto the canvas, and the perfect brown for his beautiful eyes. The evening sun and the leaves of the huge treetops in front of the large window conjure up the most beautiful patterns on his immaculate body. A game of light and shadow. It seems to you that Jungkook's body, every single pore of his body has a tiny diamond, so that he begins to sparkle in the sunlight like an infinitely precious jewel. The evening sun warms him, lays a thin layer of sweat over his body. Every detail you try to bring to the canvas, every feeling, every movement of my heart, everything you feel for him, you want to bring to this canvas. You want to make him a masterpiece. Because for you, he is the most beautiful specimen, the only true crown of the human creation.
Some black strands have come loose from his manbun and have fallen on his forehead. It looks stunning, to see him like that. I had never seen him with a messy or even completely open hair... but even now these strands loosened from the braid make his facial features look so much softer and more relaxed. In it, the adult and strong man united with a young, vulnerable, shy boy. The result is... infinitely beautiful. He possesses both sides, so he makes the seemingly inexhaustible divine human being.
His eyes, drawing his eyes with that expression in them, cost you a lot of nerves. Too often you misunderstood this infinite longing that you find in his dark, brown eyes. Again and again you have to restrain yourself, not just to get up, to go over to him... and to kiss him.
This longing look you misinterpret is as longing as you own... according to your closeness, your touch, your affection... according to your love. Because you love him. You love everything about him, his sheepish laugh, the way of rubbing his neck shyly, the way he speaks and explains his point of views about things, how he smells... just everything... every blemish he blames on himself, you think it’s like an artwork on him. He is so perfectly imperfect that you just fell in love with him.
The sun has already set and only the last pink and purple streaks could be seen in the sky, with which the past day says goodbye to the world. One last time you can hear the velvety stroke of the brush over the canvas before you finally put the brush aside. It is finished. You have given everything that is in your power, used all of your artistic abilities and knowledge to the utmost and you have incorporated everything that you feel and think about into this artwork. And what you see put a smile on your lips, but also makes your pulse rise. What will Jungkook say when he looks at it? He will see it... can he read what you feel for him in it?
With a trembling voice, you call Jungkook and look at him one last time. The last time the sight of this male beauty was granted to you. One last time.
After Jungkook has wrapped himself in the dressing gown again, he slowly comes towards you and your easel. Your heart is throbbing as if it really wants to fearfully flight and jump out of your chest. Your body gets hot and cold at the same time and suddenly your hands get sweaty, the dried color on your skin mixes with the sweat to a uncomfortable mess in your palms, which somehow makes you even more nervous. Then he stands next to you. Looking at the canvas for the first time himself. The last brushstroke is still drying.
Once again there is silence, which makes you incredibly nervous and with every second that passes, you want to follow your instinct to escape. Jungkook's pupils are dilated and blown out, whether with bewilderment or horror, you can not recognize. One of his hands shoots up his mouth, he trembles all over his body. Suddenly you hear a suppressed, throaty sobbing. Surprised and a little appalled, you look at Jungkook, who has shut his eyes tightly and presses the palm of his hand even harder on his mouth, as if he wants to muffle every sound. Tears escape the corners of his eyes. This is a reaction... which you would not have expected...
Gently, mindful of any kind of resistance, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't sob, he doesn't whimper. He just cries. Tenderly, consolingly you hold him, without wanting to distress him. He literally presses his face into the crook of your neck. Salty tears drench your blouse, but it doesn't bother you. The reason why he had such an emotional outburst, you just don't understand. But still... it's okay. It is valid.
As he slowly calms down and his breathes becomes regularly again, he carefully lifts his head out of the crook of your neck and wipes the last tears out of his eyes dry in slight embarrassment. He slowly releases himself from your embrace until you finally stand silently in front of each other.
"What title you’ll give this artwork?", he asks softly, in a rough, throaty voice. You swallow . "It shall be called 'Der Geliebte'. ...it is german and translated it means... ‘The beloved’ ", you say barely audibly and lower your head. After this confession, you can no longer look him in the eyes.
Jungkook takes a sharp breath in and you're actually just waiting for a devastating response from him that would be like a death threat. But nothing of this happened. Instead, your chin is suddenly raised by his fingertips and you look into Jungkook's beautiful eyes. He bites his lower lip a little uncertainly,his own gaze falls on your pretty shaped lips. 
"Do you... do you allow me to kiss you?", he asks quietly... barely audible for you even though you’re standing so close to each other. He doesn't dare to look you into the eyes after such a question, he is too afraid that you deny his request. But you can hardly believe your luck, a high pitched ‘yes!’ flew over your lips and before you can control yourself, you press your own lips right onto his. They are incredibly soft and kiss you back in such a delightfully and endearing insecure and shy manner as no other could ever have done it.
Your heart beats full of joy and bliss and in your belly, the butterflies fly somersaults of all different kinds that your whole body began to tingle. Your mind cannot get a grasp of all this yet, but this... you don't need any more of it at this moment anyway.
The kiss is tender, shy and somewhat uncertain from both sides. Jungkook is very insecure and shy, but before he can escape like a frightened deer again, you put your arms around his neck and let your hands rest in the nape of his scalp. Again and again you detach yourselves from each other only for the fraction of a second to get a breath of air into your lungs in order to find each other lips again... until you stopped for a few seconds.
"I like you... I like you really, really much, Jungkook... I even dare to say that I fell on love with you.", you mutter softly against his lips. His shy, happy smile was too much for you, so you immediately kiss him again. Perhaps because of the sheer joy and maybe of the certainty that he feels the same for you, the next kiss turns into something more passionate than before...
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sankyeom · 3 years
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lullaby | j.b
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pairings: jacob bae x reader genre: neighbour au, strangers to lovers, kind of implied that you both are in college summary: in which your new neighbour sings you to sleep every night since the walls in your building are so thin, and you fall in love with his voice word count: 5.4k series: sankyeom’s 2k followers celebration note: yes i’m in love with jacob’s a to boyz video. yes it inspired this fic. yes i’m going through it.
masterlist
When your old neighbour moved out, you couldn’t be happier at the news.
The girl living in the apartment next to yours used to blast her music late at night and into the early morning, and she always kept you up. Sometimes she did it just for fun, other times she did it to overpower the sound of her arguing with her boyfriend. Either way, you would be up at night wanting nothing more than to go over to your neighbour’s apartment and break her door down as a form of revenge.
But you didn’t, because you quite liked your apartment and didn’t want to give your landlord a reason to kick you out.
Instead, you and your other neighbours filed enough noise complaints to the building’s owner until the girl moved out on her own accord. If you had to pinpoint the worst three months of your life, it would be the time when that girl lived next door to you.
Of course it wasn’t entirely her fault; your apartment building had hilariously thin walls. Her music wasn’t the worst thing you had heard through the walls, but it was certainly the loudest and most consistent thing that bothered you.
For a few weeks, the apartment next to yours was vacant, and you were able to relish in the silence that you had been dreaming about for so many gruelling nights. One afternoon after you came home from your day of classes to find the elderly lady who lives a few doors down for you peeking outside her front door.
“Hi Mrs Kim,” you greeted her with a wave. Her eyes flitted over to you and she offered you a smile. Mrs Kim was your favourite neighbour by far. She always brought you treats when she made too many and made sure to check in on you regularly since you lived alone.
“Hi dear,” she waved back, eyes crinkling as she realised it was you.
“What are you up to?” you wondered.
“I’m just spying on your new neighbour,” Mrs Kim informed you, stepping out of her door frame to speak with you.
You sighed. “Another neighbour?” you echoed, craning your neck to see them move in.
If they were interesting enough to peak Mrs Kim’s interest, you wanted to see them for yourself. Alas, all you could see were boxes and bags piled outside the open front door of the apartment next to yours, the new tenant nowhere in sight.
“I was just getting used to having some peace and quiet around here,” you recalled as an afterthought, wincing at the memories of your last neighbour. Although you had no personal issues with her, you were glad to see the self-absorbed music-blaster go.
“I know dear,” Mrs Kim gave you a sympathetic smile, thinking back to how tired and cranky you were a while back. “But he looks kind,” she offered. “He greeted me very nicely and he even has a guitar! How wonderful.”
“A guitar?” you repeated, frowning. “Not electric, I hope?”
Mrs Kim laughed. “Don’t worry so much, Y/n,” she told you, patting your shoulder in an endearing manner. “He was quite handsome.”
You rose an eyebrow. You had been at the hand of Mrs Kim’s attempted set-ups many times before. “And that’s my cue,” you laughed, saying your goodbyes to Mrs Kim and making your way to your apartment. As you took your keys out and started unlocking your door, curiosity got the best of you and you tried to peer into your neighbour’s apartment for a sign of him. “What are you doing,” you muttered to yourself, scolding yourself for invading your new neighbour’s privacy and entering your apartment.
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You awoke from your nap to the sound of music.
“Not again,” you groaned, thinking it was your new neighbour in your sleepy state. Soon, you realised that it was just your phone ringing, and felt a little guilty for immediately blaming your neighbour without even meeting him once. “Hello?” you picked up the call.
“Y/N!” your best friend Changmin yelled into your ear.
“Dude,” you groaned. “Why are you using your outdoor voice?”
“This is my indoor voice,” Changmin exclaimed, surprised that you had found him so loud. “You act like you don’t even know me.”
“Oh, my apologies,” you mumbled, putting your phone on speaker just to get it away from your ear. “What’s up? You woke me from my nap.”
“Mrs Kim told me that you have a new neighbour,” Changmin said casually.
You narrowed your eyes at your phone. “When did you talk to Mrs Kim?”
“I saw her at the convenience store,” Changmin happily informed you. “She said she’d give you some brownies for you to pass on to me in the next few days.”
You laughed at this. “How can you charm everyone around you, including the old ladies that live on my floor?”
“Never mind that,” Changmin dismissed. “New neighbour? What’s he like?”
“I don’t know,” you got out of bed to draw your curtains, letting what was left of the sunset brighten your room. You had fallen asleep while studying, and thus hadn’t set an alarm. “I haven’t met him yet.”
“Mrs Kim says he’s cute.”
“Mrs Kim says everyone is cute,” you scoffed. “That woman is a saint.”
“Alright, that’s fair,” Changmin giggled. “Why are you napping this late? You won’t be able to fall asleep tonight if you nap for so long.”
“I know,” you hummed, stretching out and relishing in how relaxed you felt after your nap.
Your best friend was right, though. Whenever you napped in the late afternoon, you always struggled to fall asleep again that night. Of course, this wasn’t a problem when your monstrous neighbour blasted her music every night anyway, but once she left naps and a good night’s sleep were finally possible for you.
“Maybe my new neighbour will play me a lullaby on his electric guitar,” you joke.
“He has an electric guitar?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Mrs Kim says he carried a guitar into his apartment. I haven’t heard him play yet so I don’t know what kind. But I’m delighted to hear it.”
Changmin snorted. “Really?” he asked in disbelief, having been on the end of some rants about you possibly kidnapping your previous neighbour and threatening her to move out.
“Sure,” you exclaimed. “As long as he plays it during hours of the day where I want to be awake, I have no problems what-so-ever with a little rock and roll.”
“Hilarious,” Changmin said sarcastically. “Anyway, did you finish your Chemistry study guide?”
“Is that why you’re calling?” you wondered. “Pretending to be curious about my new neighbour just to steal my hard work and Chemistry notes.”
“You caught me,” Changmin said happily, no shame in his voice. “So?”
You flipped through your notes to see where you go up to before falling asleep. “Yeah I finished them. I suppose you want my Econ notes when I’m done with them too?”
“Forget Mrs Kim, you’re the real saint,” Changmin said in lieu of an answer.
“No need to butter me up, I’ve already agreed,” you rolled your eyes, grinning at your best friend’s antics. “I’ll text you pictures later.”
Once you said your goodbyes, you made your way into the kitchen to turn on the kettle for a hot drink before wandering back into your room to search for a sweater. Once your water was boiled, you made yourself a drink and snuck back into your bed to burrow under the covers and finish studying.
As you took a sip of your drink and flipped through your Economics notes, you heard the faint timbre of an acoustic guitar. Pausing, you stopped your actions and sat up straight, as if this would amplify the sound more so you could hear it.
You guessed your new neighbour didn’t have an electric guitar after all.
The warm chords that you could make out were soothing and whimsical, and you allowed yourself to get lost in your neighbour’s playing for a moment. Deciding that it would make good background study music, you set aside your headphones in favour of listening to your neighbour play his guitar.
Soon, you were already finished with your Economics study guide so you snapped a few pictures of them and sent them to Changmin, along with your study guide for Chemistry too. A quick glance at the clock told you that you had been studying for an hour and a half after napping, meaning that your neighbour was persistently playing for just as long.
Just as you started considering what movie to watch to kill time so you could feel tired enough to go to sleep, soft singing started to accompany the guitar playing coming from your neighbours’s apartment. His voice was rich and tender at the same time; filled with emotion and lyrics close to a mumble in terms of enunciating. Something about his voice made your heart flutter, just slightly. If you thought he was a good guitar player, you thought he was a phenomenal vocalist.
Rather than watching a movie, you tucked yourself into bed and went on your phone to scroll through social media for a while, just listening to the sound of your neighbour’s voice and the music he was playing.
It didn’t take long before your eyes started to feel heavy; lulled to sleep by the timbre of your neighbour’s voice and the warmth of the covers on your bed. Thanking your past self for already setting your alarm for your classes the next day, you were soothed into a deep sleep despite the fact that you took a lengthy nap that afternoon.
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The next morning, you felt as though you had never slept so well in your entire life.
Your bed was almost impossibly cosy and you had to seriously motivate yourself to get out of bed and head to your lectures for the day. After getting ready and dressed for the day, you wrapped a scarf around your neck to fend against the biting cold autumn air. As you exited your apartment, you couldn’t help but linger your gaze on your neighbour’s door, wondering if he was still inside or if he had already left.
“He’s gone,” you yelped as Mrs Kim’s voice startled you out of your stare. She stood as if she hadn’t scared you, unfazed by your reaction. “He left two hours ago.”
You put a hand on your chest in an attempt to calm its erratic beat. “Mrs Kim,” you greeted. “You scared me.”
Mrs Kim ignored you, smirking knowingly at you. “So you saw him then?” she assumed. “You must have, if you’re looking at his door like you want him to come out of his apartment.”
“I didn’t see him yet, Mrs Kim,” you denied with a small smile. “I was in my apartment all night and I’m only just leaving now,” you added.
“Then why’re you staring?” she asked, bending down to pick up her cat from the floor.
“Just curious,” you said, which wasn’t entirely a lie. You wanted to know exactly who had sung you a lullaby that was so sweet it put you right to sleep. “Is he really that handsome, Mrs Kim? Not only did you tell me but you told Changmin about it too.”
“He’s very handsome,” Mrs Kim insisted, pushing a container into your arms with her free hand. “Speaking of your charming friend, that’s for him.”
The container had cut up brownies in it, and you almost laughed at how well Changmin and Mrs Kim got along. “Thank you Mrs Kim, I’ll be sure to give them to him today,” you promised, making your way down the hall and rushing to the bus stop so that you wouldn’t miss the last bus that would get you to college on time.
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Somehow, it felt as though your new neighbour was avoiding you.
Either that, or the two of you just kept missing one another. Any time you had to leave, you could still hear him milling around his apartment. The only times you ever heard his front door open was when you were just getting home, or had no intention of leaving. Even Changmin, who was a social butterfly and constantly fluttered in between your friends’ places, never saw your neighbour when he came by to visit.
Without a fail, your neighbour played the guitar and sang every single night.
Sometimes he would play during the day as well, but he only ever sang at night. You assumed that he figured he could sing at night so that nobody else heard him, unaware of the paper-thin walls that separated your apartments. You wondered if it was because he was being courteous, or if he was just shy about singing when other people could hear. Either way, you definitely credited your neighbour to being the reason that you fell asleep peacefully every night.
You never had trouble falling asleep in general, but you mostly had very restless nights of sleep, even in the complete silence you heard when your neighbouring apartment was vacant.
Something about your neighbour’s voice just relaxed you to the point where you slept like a little baby.
The first time you met the owner of said voice, you were running late for class and cursing Changmin on the phone as he laughed at your misfortune. He had been teasing you all week about a presentation you were nervous about, saying that you were so well-prepared that the only thing that could mess it up was you missing the class entirely.
Then your alarm didn’t go off and you woke up half an hour later than you usually would on that day.
“Ji Changmin, you’re an ass,” you fumed, pulling your coat on as you opened the front door of your apartment. “You must have cursed me or something, or at least you spoke it into existence. I don’t know but if you don-“
“I’m so sorry!” a familiar voice exclaimed upon your impact with another body. Two hands reached out to steady you and prevent you from falling over, and your eyes met those of a brown-eyed man.
A beautiful, beautiful, brown-eyed man.
“Are you okay?” he asked, since all you had done since the two of you collided was stare at him. “You’re not… concussed, are you? Can you get concussed by bumping into someone?”
“I don’t think so,” you breathed out, taking in his sharp features and large, kind eyes. “I’m sorry. That was definitely my fault, I was rushing, and yelling at my friend,” you tried to explain, but were interrupted when he laughed.
“No harm done,” he assured you, a shy smile appearing on his face. “I’m Jacob. I just moved in next door, actually,” he introduced himself.
Jacob. Mrs Kim was right, he was very handsome.
“Hi Jacob,” you replied, holding out your hand for him to shake. “I’m-“
“Y/n, right?” he stated. At your surprised expression, Jacob only shrugged. “I talked to Mrs Kim from a few doors down. She told me all about you.”
“Oh gosh,” you laugh, covering your face with a hand. “I hope not everything. She’s seen me at my worst, let me put it that way.”
“All good things,” Jacob assured you in his velvety voice. “She speaks really highly of you. Says that you’re smart, kind, and that you have great taste in friends.”
You grin. “Ah, yes. My best friend seems to have charmed his way into her heart. That’s why he gets brownies in a Tupperware and I don’t,” you informed him. “I’m sure you’ll get there too.”
“I sure hope so,” Jacob nods. “I’m a terrible baker and brownies sound really good.” The two of you shared a laugh. “You said you were in a rush, right?” he seemed to recall, causing your eyes to widen.
“Yes! I need to run. I need to catch a bus, like,” you glanced at the time on your phone, realising how late you were and that you were still on a call with Changmin. “Twenty minutes ago.”
“Good luck,” Jacob smiled, waving at you as you said your goodbyes.
“Nice meeting you!” you called back to him, starting to jog down the staircase before bringing your phone up to your ear.
“Jacob, hm?” Changmin’s voice teased you.
“Watch it, Ji Changmin,” you warned. “You’re on thin ice already. Save me a seat!”
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Other than being sung to sleep by him every night, your relationship with Jacob pretty much ended at your first meeting. The two of you always exchanged pleasantries when you passed each other in the hallway, and he had once informed you that he really had reached brownie-level friendships with Mrs Kim, but nothing beyond that.
You couldn’t say that you were surprised, considering how the two of you had such different schedules and you kept missing one another, but you somehow felt a little disappointed.
It felt a little bit like the two of you already knew each other, as you heard him sing every single night; hearing the emotion and vulnerability in his voice with every song. But you knew nothing about each other.
After a particularly gruelling day of your Chemistry lab class, you dragged your feet up the stairs to your apartment, feeling utterly exhausted and worn out by your class.
Your lab partner was the absolute worst. He was one of those types that thought he knew everything better than you because he was a Chemistry major, and he belittled you about every single step in the lab. Most of what he was saying was wrong, but he wouldn’t listen to you because he was sure he was right.
Half a semester later, you had just gotten your midterm back and found out that you failed because the data from your experiments were incorrect, and your professor couldn’t give you full credit for any of your answers. Frustrated tears built in your eyes as you made you way to your apartment door, rummaging through your bag for your keys.
“This can’t be happening,” you whined when you realised that your keys were nowhere in your bag, and you had left them in your apartment that morning. “Seriously? Today of all days?” you exclaimed, wiping your cheeks to dry your tears as you headed for Mrs Kim’s apartment to see if she was home. You had entrusted her with a spare key to your apartment since you knew you couldn’t take care of it yourself, and becomes she was so close by.
Realising she wasn’t home, you trudged back to your apartment and sunk onto the floor, burying your face in your knees and letting out a sob. Your day had been mentally and physically exhausting enough without having to wait outside your apartment, in the cold autumn air, to anticipate Mrs Kim’s return so you could enter your apartment.
The door next to yours opened slightly, a soft, concerned voice calling out to you. “Y/n?” Jacob asked quietly, wondering why you were outside. When he noticed your crying, he immediately stepped outside and knelt in front of you. “Are you okay? What happened?” You could only sob in response, not having it in you to explain your situation to him. “Why are you crying?” sniffling, you managed to raise your head and point weakly at your front door.
“You’re locked out?” he guessed, earning a nod. “Okay, let’s go to my place,” Jacob offered you, holding his hand out to help you up. “I just made hot chocolate, and I have Disney Plus so we can watch something while you wait for Mrs Kim,” he paused when you didn’t say anything. “Technically, it’s not my Disney Plus account, but I have my friend’s password. He subscribed just to watch the Beyonce album film,” you laughed tearfully, which Jacob considered a success.
“I don’t want to bother you,” you admitted in a quiet voice, slightly raw from your crying.
“You? Bothering me?” Jacob exclaimed. “Never. Now c’mon. Our hot chocolate’s getting cold.”
Grateful for his kindness, you accepted his outstretched hand and let him pull you to your feet, gently ushering you into his apartment and closing the door behind you. He motioned for you to take a seat on his sofa and you did so, taking off your coat and scarf as you adjusted to Jacob’s warm apartment.
“Here,” he placed two mugs of hot chocolate on the coffee table in front of you, taking a seat on a sofa next to you but giving you some space. You mumbled a quiet thank you before sipping on the hot drink, savouring the way it warmed your insides.
Spotting his guitar leaning against the wall next to the TV, you cocked your head in curiosity to see what it looked like. It was made of a light brown, almost yellow, wood and looked like it was treasured by Jacob. Not only was it in perfect condition, it also looked like it had been used for years already. You silently wondered how long he had been playing it for. “Do you play?” Jacob asked, noticing where your eyes were looking.
Shaking your head, you told him that you didn’t. “You’re really good, though,” you complimented before you could realise what you were saying.
Jacob blinked at you, eyes wide and lips pursed in surprise. “Me?” he echoed. “You’ve heard me play?”
Feeling stupid, you only nodded, sipping more of your hot chocolate as an excuse to think about what you wanted to say. “Um, yeah. Walls are kind of thin around here.”
Jacob blushed. “I’m so sorry,” he apologised. “I play until really late at night most of the time. I even-“ he paused, realising you had heard him sing. “I even sing,” he whispered, eyes flitting to the ground as his cheeks reddened further.
“You’re really good,” you complimented. “At singing, too.”
Jacob shook his head. “It must be annoying.”
“Not at all,” you denied. “My last neighbour used to blast angry-girl rock music. Now, I have nothing against angry-girl rock music, but I do when it’s being played at an ear-splitting volume into the early hours of the morning. That’s annoying. Your singing… It’s more like a lullaby,” you finished your thoughts in a whisper, shy at your explanation.
“Really?” Jacob was shocked.
You hummed in agreement. “I’ve never slept so well in my life,” you admitted with a small smile.
“Oh,” Jacob sipped on his mug to stop a huge smile from taking over his features. After meeting Mrs Kim for the first time, he was intrigued to meet the person she was speaking so highly of. When he ran into you, he felt flustered and excited because you were even more stunning than he could have imagined from Mrs Kim’s description. “I’m glad I helped, then. Even though the idea of you hearing me is mildly humiliating.”
“What!” you exclaimed, louder than you had intended to. “Why would it be humiliating? Your singing is… I can’t even describe it with words. It’s beautiful, Jacob.”
“You think so?” he asked in a disbelieving tone. Your eager nod made butterflies flutter in his stomach. “Thank you. That actually means a lot.”
“You don’t seem to believe me,” you observed.
“I’m not that confident in myself, or my playing,” Jacob explained awkwardly. “I’m more the quiet type, so it’s not so easy for me to put myself out there when it comes to music. I want my music to mean something to other people, and it’s how I communicate best, so…”
“Well, I can confirm first-hand that you’re amazing,” you offered. “I might not be as great of a musician as you, so my compliment might not mean anything to you, but I really believe it.”
Jacob bit his bottom lip, deciding to nod in response to your words, too shy to say much else. You took his reaction as a sign that he didn’t want to continue the conversation anymore, so you focused your attention back onto your hot chocolate. “Do you want to watch a movie?” he offered.
“I would love to leach off of your friend’s Disney Plus account,” you agreed, referring to how Jacob ranted a little about his friend. Jacob grinned, getting up to hang your coat and scarf up for you before he turned the TV on.
Being with Jacob in a more casual state was more fun than you had expected.
Once the two of you warmed up to one another, you found that Jacob was actually really goofy and fun when he got comfortable with you. He made terrible puns about the characters in the film you decided on, and his laugh made you want to squeal because he was so adorable.
Halfway through your second movie, you had fallen asleep as a result of the hot chocolate that had deliciously warmed your body, and the exhaustion from your emotional day. When Jacob noticed, he took one of the throw blankets form his bedroom and gently placed it over your body, getting up from the sofa to let you stretch out and get some rest.
The few times you woke up after falling asleep, you were lulled back to sleep and relaxed by Jacob’s soothing guitar playing and singing. Despite being tired, you were awake long enough to be pleased that Jacob seemed comfortable enough around you to play for you while you were still in his apartment, instead of just waiting until you left.
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The next morning, you woke up to the sound of Jacob’s sweet voice gently calling for you to wake up. After opening your eyes, you saw Jacob kneeling in front of you with a bright smile and ruffled hair. “Hi sleepyhead,” he greeted, handing you a cup of tea. You sat up, rubbing your eyes with one hand and accepting the mug with the other. “Mrs Kim came by to drop off your key,” Jacob said. “I texted her last night.”
“Thank you,” you replied, surprised that he had gone out of his way to contact Mrs Kim when you were an emotional wreck who had forgotten all about it.
“She also said to wake you before noon because you have classes in the afternoon and you hate rushing,” Jacob added in thought, passing your spare key from Mrs Kim over to you. “Seems a little ironic since you and I seem to only ever meet when you’re rushing.”
You laughed at this. “What can I say, you always catch me on a good day,” you joke. “But seriously. Thank you. You really helped me out last night, I don’t know how I can repay you.”
Jacob waved you off. “No repayment needed. I’m just happy to get closer to you after being your neighbour for over a month already.”
His large smile was one that you hoped you’d be seeing more of. “Has anybody ever told you that you’re an angel?” you wondered, resting your head on your hand as you observed Jacob’s face. The fluttery feeling in your stomach didn’t surprise you anymore, not after he had saved you the night before. “Like an actual angel. Now that I’ve gotten to know you better, I think I see your wings.”
A giggle escaped the man next to you. “I’ve actually heard that before,” Jacob admitted sheepishly.
“I’m not surprised,” you hummed, sipping on the warm tea Jacob made for you. “What time is it?”
“Just after eleven,” Jacob recited. “Do you have to get going?”
You nodded, finishing up your cup of tea. “I do, unfortunately. I have to go see my Chemistry professor and do some serious begging and grovelling.”
“Sounds rough,” Jacob gave you a sympathetic smile. “Well, I had a really good time last night.”
You smiled back easily, unable to hold it back. “I had a really good time last night too,” you assured him. “I really can’t thank you enough.”
“Stop,” Jacob laughed. “Don’t even think about it. I was happy to have you over.”
“I was happy to finally hear your playing in person,” you replied. “I only really heard it in and out of sleep, but I was still glad to hear it. Also,” you paused, unsure if you were going too far.
“Also,” he echoed, curiosity piqued.
“You said last night that you wanted your music to mean something,” you recalled. “It does mean something. To me, at least. It actually means a lot.”
“I think I can see those angel wings you’re talking about,” Jacob said. “Except they’re on you.”
“Very funny,” you laughed, getting up and finding your coat. “I really need to get going, though.”
“Okay,” Jacob nodded, walking you to the door. “I’ll see you around?” he offered, insecure that you wouldn’t want to spend more time with him.
“I’ll see you soon,” you corrected, flashing him a wink before you let yourself out. Jacob closed the door behind you and you let yourself sigh in delight, relishing in the evening you had together the night before.
“What are you doing walking out of your hot neighbour’s apartment?” you jumped, surprised by Changmin’s sudden presence at your front door. He held out a take-away cup of coffee for you.
“You scared me,” you told him, ignoring his comment as you accepted the coffee.
“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me,” Changmin scowled, following you into your apartment after you unlocked your door. “You came to school in those clothes yesterday. Did you hook up with your cute neighbour? Jacob?”
“You ask so many questions,” you complained, making your way into the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. “No, I didn’t hook up with Jacob. I locked myself out and he graciously took me in for the evening, despite my emotional ugly-crying.”
Changmin laughed. “You would go stay at your hot neighbour’s house after having the crappiest day in the world,” he said, pleased at the outcome.
“Thanks, Changmin. Now I need to change so that I have enough time to beg our Chemistry professor to let me do extra-credit assignments so I don’t fail the class,” you added, feeling gloomy about what happened with your midterm the day before.
“Sure, sure,” Changmin nodded, taking a seat on your sofa and taking his phone out.
You made your way to your bedroom to change your clothes, going as quickly as possible so that you still had time to neaten your hair a little. When a knock sounded through your apartment, you called out to Changmin to open the door for you.
“Oh, hi!” you heard your best friend say in his usual chipper tone. “You must be Jacob! I’ve heard so much about you,” at the sound of Jacob’s name, you dropped your hair brush and rushed to the front door, where Changmin was smirking at your neighbour.
“Hey,” you greeted. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jacob assured you, glancing nervously at Changmin, who was still grinning at him.
“Could you give us a minute?” you asked Changmin, raising an eyebrow at his blatant eavesdropping. He sighed, sad that his fun was over, before he walked in the direction of your kitchen. “What’s up?” you smiled at Jacob.
He took a deep breath. “Would you want to get dinner some time?” he asked, tapping his foot as a nervous habit.
His question both surprised and delighted you. “Like a date?” you asked, hiding your smile.
“Like a date,” Jacob confirmed. “If you want.”
“I want,” you agreed, showing your smile. “I want a lot.”
“Great,” Jacob sighed, relieved. “I want a lot, too.” You giggled at how strange the two of you sounded.
“If you guys are going to start kissing, I suggest you do it now because we have to go,” Changmin called from the kitchen, ruining the moment.
Jacob pointed in Changmin’s direction. “He’s not coming to dinner, is he?” he asked.
You grinned. “Absolutely not.”
“How does tonight sound?” Jacob suggested. “Or is that too eager of me?”
“Just eager enough,” you assured him. “Pick me up at seven?”
“Sure thing,” he agreed, beaming as he stepped out of your doorway to go back to his apartment.
“I hope you don’t get lost on your way to my apartment,” you teased. “It’s awfully far from yours.”
“I’ll just follow the sound of your wings,” he called, waving before he disappeared into his apartment.
Dinner. You liked the sound of that.
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note: second fic in my 2k celebration series!! i know that this fic and the last didn’t end with a kiss or a relationship but i still think the ending is cute, i hope it satisfies you!
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onisionhurtspeople · 6 years
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Sorry I just ran into this blog, Lainey said on Twitter they're an ISFJ awhile back. I can see both them being an unhealthy INFP that thinks their Si is stronger than it actually is due to looping and them being an unhealthy ISFJ. They could be in an Si-Ti loop where they dont let new ideas in and believes their experience/conclusions are always correct without looking further than that for information. (1/3)
They’re also very tactful (auxiliary Fe) which makes them seem innocent and wanting group harmony instead of drama. An unhealthy Fe user sweeps issues under the rug to live in their ideal “peaceful” world. If an ISFJ is gripping, their inferior function is Ne. This may cause them to think of all the ways life could be and using it as an excuse that nothing could go wrong due to the likelihood (they think) of it in their life (ex. bringing 18-20 year olds into an unhealthy relationship, believing Onision didn’t cheat due to the fact many things could happen since there are infinite truths in the world and Si-Ti may think that their POV is the most correct from what they gathered). I can see INFP but I do want to see what you think of this. 
Sorry it took so long to respond! I knew this was going to be a long one, so I’ve been avoiding it because tbh you will never meet a lazier INTJ than me. I apologize in advance for the poor quality of this message, because my brain fog is really shitty today and I’m feeling not nearly as sharp as I usually am. My arguments will probably not be as convincing or wordy as they usually are.
Anyway, I believe she actually said she was INFJ. I remember because I was the one who asked her to take the quiz. >_> (Unless we’re thinking of two different incidences? This was, if I recall correctly, around the time that Billie had just left for the final time, so I want to say September or October of 2016.) Anyway–tbh, the fact that she got INFJ just confirmed to me more than anything else that she really was an INFP, because let’s be real, I’m pretty sure no INFP has ever existed who didn’t first mistype themselves as being an INFJ. (I’m mostly joking, but like.. only mostly.) Of course, ISFJs also frequently mistype as INFJs, so this is an idea worth exploring.
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Anyway, I shall try to explain why I see her as an INFP rather than as an ISFJ or INFJ. I apologize in advance if you’re an INFP; if I end up saying anything rude about them, please understand that I’m not making disparaging comments about INFPs in general - I’m just evaluating Lainey, who is (I believe) a very unhealthy version of her type.
So, first and foremost: Fi. Sooo much Fi. But Fi in the most unhealthy way possible: incredibly self-righteous and self-absorbed, and excessively concerned with interpreting and relaying her own individualistic, unique identity to the world. She needs to be acknowledged for her differences. If you look back at all of the arguments she’s ever had with Greg on social media (in other words, the times when he says something that aggrieves her enough that she’s actually willing to confront him over it), they all have the same theme in common: they’re always about her feeling affronted because he invalidated her values or sense of self somehow. For example: the last fight they got in was because Greg referred to himself as being in a straight relationship, which offended Lainey because she interpreted that as him undermining her gender. I can think of a few other examples of their arguments on social media off the top of my head, and they all follow that same theme: Greg being insulted that she was hero-worshiping a musician who didn’t like him (also an Fi user); Greg arguing with her about eating fish; Greg calling her filthy because her room was dirty and she hadn’t cleaned it; Greg insulting her family (especially her mother and sister). When Lainey gets involved in Greg’s debates or ongoing feuds with other content creators (Jaclyn Glenn, Joy Sparkle BS, Blaire White, etc), it’s never to weigh in with her opinion, and only ever to express her irritation over them misgendering her, either accidentally or on purpose. When she’s rude and condescending towards her fans, it’s typically because they questioned her sense of self somehow (usually in regards to her gender, internal motivations, or relationship with Greg). It’s rarely in defense of anybody else, which I feel like would happen more often if she really was an Fe user.
I think the tactfulness and willingness to sweep things under the rug that you’re interpreting as being aux Fe may actually be a combination of Fi seeking harmony in relationships (high Fi users can do this too, just like Fe users can; the difference mainly lies in when, and for what reason, their feeling function becomes triggered when somebody crosses the line. For Fi users, this tends to be when something strikes a personal nerve or attacks and invalidates their character or sense of self; for Fe users, this tends to be when somebody rejects, abuses, or takes advantage of their warmth and care, or when somebody expresses a lack of concern for the collective (family, friends, neighborhood, club, church group, society, etc) - other words, selfishness. If you dismiss their overtures of affection after they’ve put effort into displaying warmth and consideration, then they may become offended when that same person then takes advantage of those polite gestures, or refuses to reciprocate them), and also Lainey just generally not caring enough to say or do anything to counter Greg that might rock the boat in their private life. 
Secondly: Ne. In Lainey’s case, her Ne is not as overt as I’ve observed it in other INFPs, and I’m not sure why this is. I apologize if this comes off as rude (and it really kind of is, but I don’t know how else to say this in a non-offensive way), but I think it’s really just because Lainey is an INFP of average intelligence, whereas most INFPs (that I’ve encountered, anyway) are in the gifted range, and so their Ne is much more readily apparent. Ne and Se share many qualities (being that they’re both Pe functions), including that they both have a preference for wanting to live life by their own standards, a strong dislike of feeling constrained or held back, feeling compelled to seek novelty (Se in a more physical, concrete way, and Ne in a more abstract, conceptual way), and wanting to learn through experience. Se and Ne both feel driven to be seen as cool–but in different ways. Se wants to be seen as cool in a more physical and conventional sense - for example, by being entertaining, or by dressing in a manner that is immediately impactful in a sensory way. Ne, on the other hand, wants to be cool by being unique, different, iconoclastic - it wants to be regarded as quirky and iconoclastic, cool for being “uncool”, if that makes sense. And so many INFPs are drawn to countercultures (hipsters, for example) who are unconventional, but still have a certain mystique and draw to them; and I definitely think Lainey fulfills that aspect of Ne.
Ugh. I’m sorry, my brain power is running low. Brain fog is super bad today. I think we both see Si in her, so I don’t think I have to explain that. Mainly where I see Si in her (especially in the form of Fi-Si loops) is her inability to let go of people from her past. She even did it with Billie: brought her back over and over again because she would find herself looking back on the good times, and minimizing the bad ones. She makes the same mistakes repeatedly because she reviews her memories of them (memories which are attached to emotional experiences), and feels compelled to relive them, no matter how painful they were. 
Please don’t make me write something for Te. My Te is all pooped out today. :C
Anyway, it’s lovely running into somebody on here who’s knowledgeable about the cognitive functions! =O I’m guessing you’re an INFP as well? Sorry for this shitty argument, I  might try to redo it in a few days when my brain fog dissipates a little.
Edit: I just went back to the the post; and yeah, she scored as INFJ-T on the 16personalities test (admittedly shitty and has nothing to do with the cognitive functions). In the comment section, I left a link on how to differentiate between INFJ and INFP, lmao.
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Edit #2: Oh, one last thing: here’s a description of what a destructive INFP looks like from one of my favorite MBTI sites, Psychology Junkie. Doesn’t it remind you of Lainey?
Destructive INFPs are self-absorbed, self-righteous, and waver between being passive and extremely judgmental. They enjoy living in their fantasies, but care little for the practical realities of daily life. They may neglect their loved ones and family members and instead prefer to live in a world of their own making, in essence abandoning everyone who holds them dear. They may consider themselves more morally superior or “righteous” than others, married to their idealism to such an extent that any and everyone in the real world seems flawed and disappointing. They may retreat from the world and silently judge everyone they see. Over time, they may become increasingly harsh and condemning of people in their lives. They may become so obsessed with their own emotions and fantasies that they shun or berate anyone who tries to find a way into their hearts.
Healthy INFPs are extremely empathetic, gentle, and compassionate individuals. They care for the persecuted and marginalized people of the world, and strive to help them. They are honest and driven by their morals to live a life that adheres to their values. They are creative and insightful, slow to judge others yet holding themselves to a high standard.
Also, just for the keks, here’s the description of destructive ESTJs, the type that I suspect Greg is. (I do believe that he actually took an MBTI test and scored as ESTJ, which he hilariously tried to use to “prove” that he wasn’t a narcissist or psychopath. Really shows how much effort he puts into researching his “facts”.
Destructive ESTJs are dictatorial, aggressive, and controlling. They believe that they know what’s best for everyone, and that their way is the only way. They suppress their moral compass and disregard the feelings and values of other people in exchange for their own rigid views. They push forward to achieve their goals, but instead of taking time to reflect on their decisions, they steamroll over everyone in their path in order to accomplish tasks without considering alternate viewpoints or the moral implications of their actions. They may be loyal to a corrupt system or authority and suppress anyone who stands against that authority or questions it. They trust their own personal experience and disregard other people’s experience. They scoff at the emotions and values of others while they allow themselves to have their own temper tantrums and emotional overreactions.
Healthy ESTJs: Healthy ESTJs are hard-working, trustworthy, and loyal. They see the world logically and push themselves to live up to a high standard. They don’t ask other people to do things they wouldn’t do themselves, and they uphold traditions they see as morally right and effective. They are intellectual, practical, and usually outgoing. They are very supportive of their communities and families and want to make the world a better place.
(Source)
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meadowhilley · 6 years
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what’s wrong with this picture
Part I: A Walk in the (Upside-Down) Park
I’ve always wanted people to like me. As far back as I can remember, though, I was never convinced they did.
Don’t worry, I’ll spare you the self-tortured speculation bit where I delve into the possible origins of my persistent insecurity. All I want to say now is that, however strong or self-assured or even arrogant I may have appeared to you over the years, what I most wanted, always, was for you to understand me, to accept me, to tell me that the person that I am is alright by you.
Then one day you did. It was three years ago. On October 30, 2014, actually, the eve of what could have been the scariest Halloween of my life. This invigorating shot in the arm came just hours before Chris and I would sit down with a team of medical experts who claimed to have discovered a relatively successful protocol for dealing with the zombie apocalypse. Little did any of us know at the time that you, my friends, had slipped me a powerful antidote the day before, one whose real effects would manifest and multiply over the months and years to come.
On that Halloween eve, in my shock at having been abruptly relegated to the ranks of the undead, I turned to Facebook. As one does. And there you were, my imagined community, ready to inoculate me against the looming horror. A motley group of friends that reflected better than anything else the complex composition of my character—character and friends I would need now more than ever. Looking to you, I realized, was the best way of looking at me. The converse, I understood, was equally true. Mirror, mirror, I began. A weird approach to fighting cancer, admittedly. An indication I’d spent too long in fairytale land as a kid. As wild-eyed Joyce Byers of Stranger Things has repeatedly insisted, “I know what this looks like!” By that, of course, she means BATSHIT CRAZY. Unless you happen to be the one who has found a way to talk with your missing son via Christmas lights. Or who feels you’ve discovered a “cure” for your disease in regularly confiding your deepest fears and greatest foibles in the world’s most public forum.
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Self-reflection, I quickly discovered, can look an awful lot like an exercise in vanity, its mirror-image and near enemy.
Just as poison can serve as medicine.
Patriotism can resemble treason.
Standing up can involve taking a knee.
Abuse can masquerade as tough love.
And, if you should find yourself suddenly separated from everything you hold dear by the thin wall concealing an eerie dimension you never suspected could exist, then your frantic effort to break down that space-time barrier with an axe or whatever goddamn tool you happen to have on hand will likely appear to many concerned onlookers as the textbook sign of a nervous breakdown.
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(Note my weapons of choice: a pen, a child’s fork, a pair of scissors, needle-nose pliers, lip gloss, and a few fake bullets.)
If any of my soul-searching exploits of the past three years ever struck you as exhibitionist—just the sort of self-absorbed, navel-gazing, attention-seeking, ego-driven kind of behavior that gives social media its bad name (well, that and the whole selling-out-to-the-Russians thing)—you are not alone. On many occasions, I myself came to question the methods I’d adopted and to ask what hidden motivations my sneaky subconscious might be cleverly concealing.
My closest friends and family shared these concerns, but whenever they voiced them I justified my Facebooking and blogging and memoir writing as so many means to achieving a noble and necessary end: healing.
Of course, even as I emphatically defended myself against charges of look-at-me narcissism, I was fully and uncomfortably aware of the fact that how we arrive at our destination is bound to change the very nature and outcome of the journey itself.
Social media can have a terrifically corrosive power. We know this. Evidence that these platforms can fracture and divide our community more than they unite us is everywhere apparent. Many social scientists have taken to the soapbox of late, screaming that our devices have made zombies of us all, preaching that the end of the world is nigh, and offering statistics to back their claims.
Showing up regularly in such a fraught virtual environment was a risky proposition, I knew, being all too aware of our susceptibility as humans to the lure of likes, the intoxicating effects of flattery, and the tendency to get greedy and hoard the sort of social capital such attention bestows. Hip to all this, I was a bit like Will Byers, understanding that, even if my initial intention was to use my insight to spy on the Shadow Monster in the hope of defeating it, I could easily end up a double agent in the employ of pure evil.
But whatever. It didn’t seem to matter how often I flipped the perspective switch during those internal debates about the advisability of “performative self-examination,” as I’d come to think of it. I always found myself coming back here, to this massive virtual theater, and awkwardly uttering “Ahem” to get your attention.
Driving my actions was something far more powerful than what the visible world was willing to reveal. Like Joyce, I felt what I felt. I knew what I knew. This was a salvage operation; at stake was not only the rebuilding of my body but the redemption of my soul. To hell with what it looked like. Just sell me the fucking Christmas lights, Donald. And yes, I mean on credit.
There’s something seriously wrong with me, I began by admitting to us all three years ago. And to the public confession that I was harboring a horrifying thing at my core, you responded with 162 likes, 146 comments, and 24 shares, which combined told me what I’d always secretly hoped to hear: that you liked me anyway, that some of you even loved me, and that you cared whether I lived or died.
It was a glorious and strange occasion, like attending my own funeral. Announcing my diagnosis helped us all dump our inhibitions in a screw it, let’s hug sort of way. Within the space of an instant I received this rare and beautiful gift: learning how you felt about me without having to die first.
Everyone should be so lucky. Seriously.
You and I wanted to have a moment, right then and there, while it was still possible. We felt compelled and instinctively driven to enact a basic human transaction at the brink, for our mutual benefit. What we had to figure out were the terms of our trade.
Conventional wisdom says cancer patients need casseroles. While my kids thank those of you who cooked to show you cared over the six-month period when I found even the taste of water overpowering and insufferable, what I most wanted for myself was something very different, and really hard to ask for: an audience.
Hard because, if asking for pretty much anything is awkward, it can be downright mortifying to walk up to the mic and announce, “May I have your attention, please? I have something very worthwhile and important to say.”
Especially for a 5’2” female who indulges in self-doubt the way that others devour a pint of ice cream (ok, I do that, too). Inviting you to read along as I muddled through some early responses to The Big Questions, I was always excruciatingly aware of the bigness of my ask. Time is precious, after all, and far greater voices than mine constantly compete for your attention. But there was so much I wanted to tell you. So much, in fact, that I was dying to tell you.
However lovely the intentions behind donated comfort food, forcing myself to enjoy it in the context of my cancer felt a lot like roasting marshmallows while my house was burning, to be perfectly honest. Every one of my instincts was fully engaged in the all-consuming survival effort, and there was a clear consensus among those deep and shrill interior voices that, if my existence was to mean anything at all to this world, I needed to express myself 1.) immediately and continuously, 2.) to the exclusion of many other worthy pursuits, 3.) within hearing range of an audience, 4.) without any hope of reward beyond simply being heard.
Here’s something you may have figured out about me by now: I am no good at playing the part of Helpless Cancer Victim. No more than I can pull off the role of Classroom Party Mom. “Don’t count on me for cupcakes,” I recently explained to my daughter’s first-grade teacher. “But hey, if you’re open to some curriculum enhancement, I’ll bake you up a big batch.”
Please understand: this is not me acting all smarty-pants, holier-than-thou, self-righteous, proud-to-a-fault, or ungrateful for your concrete aid when I was at my lowest. This is not me judging all of those compromised folks who legitimately need casseroles, or even those who are getting on just fine but would like to enjoy a steaming bowl of consolation without a side dish of complicated, thank you very much. Nor is this me looking down my nose at the phenomenal cupcake bakers of this world who brighten our kids’ days (I love you ladies for all you do—and yes, it’s almost exclusively ladies who do this very important work). It is simply a matter of me knowing me. Of me understanding that the best of what I have to offer is something far less comforting than casseroles or cupcakes, but just as important.
For the better part of my life, most folks haven’t known what to make of me. Like Carla Bruni, “je suis excessive” by nature. I was always too much for people. Too intense. Too far out there. Too eclectic. Too intimidating. Too earnest. Too touche-à-tout (all-over-the-place). Too outspoken. The proof? I just compared myself to Carla Bruni, France’s perfectly bilingual supermodel, actress, singer songwriter, and former First Lady. Who does that?
I’ll tell you who: the sort of person who has been looked at askance, questioned, criticized, and reined in all her life for expressing this brand of intolerable excess.
Someone should really take you down a peg or two, I’ve heard more than once.
You think you’re so great.
On whose authority do you make such claims?
Goody-goody!
Who do you think you are?
Can’t you just focus on one thing at a time?
Stop pointing your finger at me!
What makes you think you have something worthwhile to share?
How about you just shut up already and give someone else a chance to talk?
None of which felt good. If those voices had it right, I’d be forced to conclude there was something seriously wrong with me. The prospect of approaching life in a fundamentally different way would necessarily mean fighting the wild nature even my name told me I was meant to embody.
But still the voices persisted. Which is likely what led to my most valiant effort at shutting myself up: a 13-year relationship in which I was actively discouraged from expressing myself in almost every way imaginable.
Then the most amazing thing happened: I got cancer!
Again, an admittedly excessive thing to do. Not something I’d exactly gone and signed up for. But I’ll be damned if this illness wasn’t the perfect antidote to my lifelong alienation problem.
Suddenly, nobody begrudged me my excesses. No one wanted to be in my shoes. Nobody envied my lot in life. People pretty much stopped telling me to be more this and less that. My body was not a source of jealousy or desire. My manic antics didn’t grate on people’s nerves, or at least not the way they used to. That old, persistent claim that the deck had been stacked in my favor was abruptly dropped. And just like that, after a lifetime of curbing my natural élan so as not to make people uncomfortable, after decades carrying guilt over what I’d been given and wearing shame because my very being could often seem an unwelcome excess, I was finally free to just be me.
The jig was up. My cancer had outed me, revealed what I’d long been concealing. And the only way to spare folks discomfort was to hide the fact that I was sick… which of course could only make me sicker. Repressing, stifling, conforming to expectations—this cautious approach had clearly been unhealthy. Besides which, following all the rules had failed to keep me safe from mortal danger.
Call me crazy, what others saw as a tragedy I experienced as a liberation.
In the Upside-Down, I felt quite suddenly well-liked. Welcome. Just right. The sensation Alice must have felt when she finally stopped growing either too big or too small. Or the comfort Goldilocks found in tasting Baby Bear’s porridge, sitting in his chair, and sleeping in his bed.
The natural bravado and intensity I’d carried into many of my earlier endeavors and that had often struck observers as problematic were instantaneously recast in a heroic light. Whereas in the past I’d been accused of overreach and gaudy showmanship, now the very same gestures were perceived as acts of “incredible bravery” and “kick-ass determination.”
Thanks… I guess? I stammered, totally baffled, knowing that this “amazing courage” people spoke of was nothing more than me being me, only the context had shifted dramatically. The extreme nature of my circumstances finally seemed a good fit for my own radical character. My fearlessness finally had a proper outlet. This is going to sound weird, I know. Offensive, even. But I immediately knew that cancer was going to be easy compared to feeling unliked. That had been excruciating. This would be a walk in the park.
I’ve got this, I assured everyone.
But what I was really thinking was: Holy crap, I was made for this shit.
Ever hear the story about how Br’er Fox wanted to kill Br’er Rabbit in the worst possible way? “Hang me from the highest tree!” pleaded Br’er Rabbit. “Drown me in the deepest lake!” he implored. But please, PLEASE, p-l-e-a-s-e don’t throw me in that there briar patch!” Which is precisely what Br’er Fox proceeded to do, letting predatory spite blind him to the fact that his prey had royally played him.
Like the tricky rabbit, I was born and bred in this here briar patch, my friends. Born and bred.
(to be continued)
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graygrams · 6 years
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Marina Book: A Response
Dear Marina,
This had been a long time coming on my part. As a self-introduction, my name is Lily, I’m 19, and I deeply resonate with you as a person. I know that’s an incredibly bold statement to make off the bat, but I feel like saying I am a fan doesn’t quite get across the feeling I want to convey (although, I am also a fan. Love your music a lot.)
As an aside before covering the topics you discuss, I thought I should mention that Marina book is something of great importance to me. I have adored you for years, and you have helped me through many obstacles in my life through your music (which is a whole other story I hope to share with you one day if ever we meet face to face). Your music has played a big part in my life since 2011, however the reason I am writing this is because of the Marina book.
Have you ever had that deep connection to someone, a celebrity or public person, who you just know feels the same way as you do/thinks in a similar fashion? From my point of view, that’s the vibe you had been giving off these past 2-3 years. The content you have been releasing has only told me that you are an incredibly aware, kind, and genuine person who has dealt with life from the highs and the lows. And I strongly, strongly connect with you on that.
I feel like I should just jump in with the topic of social media. As a child born in the 90s (98), social media didn’t really become a thing (in my life, anyway) until I had just begun my teenage years. Us late 90s kids are known to be an amalgamation of two generations. We recall a childhood free of technology very easily, yet as we reached teenage-hood we learnt how to get soaked up in social media and how to use it. It quickly became a way for me to connect with likeminded people around the world (I was 12 at the time so by ‘like minded’, I mean people who also watched the silly TV shows I liked to watch.) I’d always been a slight oddball at school, not in a bad way, but my mother had always brought me up to be unapologetically me, and I was. I wasn’t particularly liked, I was teased a lot, but half of the time I was too busy having fun to notice. So finding similar people online was solace to me - and it quickly began to take over my life.
Connecting to people on the internet more so than to people in real life, I became one of those teens who was silent at school but loud on the internet, and I was liked on the internet - something I was not in real life. As you mentioned, the appraisal was what became an addiction to me. The need to be validated. As I got older, negative thoughts and self doubt began to creep into my mind, which affected my self confidence rapidly. I became depressed by 14, and lo and behold began the worst period of my life to date. Depression manifests itself in people in a variety of ways. For me, it was the all consuming version. A variety of external factors in my life are what triggered it, but I remember the two years I dealt with depression as being completely dark periods of my life. Social media was also a solace in that respect, I had a voice, and people listened - so when I talked about how depressed I was, people listened and cared. By the same token, social media helped me create a disillusioned version of myself to my real life friends as a happy person.
To cut to the important part, I hit rock bottom in 2013 and ended up in hospital. From then on, my journey of recovery began and it was oddly one of the most rewarding periods of my life. I received therapy, which matured me emotionally in many ways. When you talk about your views on social media/introversion/depression, I wholeheartedly agree. The Marina Book was able to do one thing - which was crystallising my thoughts into beautifully written words (a skill I have yet to work on).
The brief narration of my life above was a way in which I could express the situations which have shaped my current views on the topics approached in your writing. I felt it was necessary, because if I’d just sent you my thoughts below you’d probably think ‘now why the fuck does she think that?’, so take it as a disclaimer for whatever I’m going to write on below.
I’ll say one thing - I completely agree with everything you have said so far. On every topic. I have had the similar thought processes as you - deleting social media, exercising, meditation, etc. I suppose this is just my (similar) views on the topics. It makes me feel like a copy cat but I have nothing to say except expand on what you’ve said by drawing from my own experiences. I’ve been deleting social media on and off for about a year now. It’s a hard habit to shake, I admit, and now that I’m studying at University I’m finding it even harder to switch off, because socialisation nowadays mainly revolves around social media. (And I have FOMO for god’s sake!) Do you ever get the strong urge to get rid of your iPhone and switch to a Nokia? It’s an idea I’ve been toying with for a few months now and it only gets more tempting. I want to be more in tune with myself, I want to take care of myself. Draw, read, write, exercising, eat well, you name it. However it’s so easy to just lie on your bed flicking through instagram - and suddenly two hours have passed and you feel like shit and unaccomplished. It’s easy thinking all of these ideas, but the problem I have had is executing them. I’ve downloaded Moment, an app I’m finding incredibly useful, and I hope in the long term it’ll reduce my urges to waste ages on social media doing nothing but absorbing grey content. My screen time has rapidly decreased from an average of 4 hours to 1 hour now I’ve deleted Instagram and Facebook off my phone. I do also think people are beginning to shift towards awareness in regards to the traps & fronts people put up on social media. However I do also believe it’s going to remain as a platform people use to publish the best versions of themselves.
I was thinking one day about using instagram for the opposite purpose - broadcasting the worst parts of my life (eg. making a post when I was having a bad night or when my cat brings in a dead mouse again..!). It’s an experiment I would love to partake in, however I feel like it’ll go down like a lead balloon seeming as I don’t have many followers and people wouldn’t probably notice. And then I’d make a big post explaining my master plan and people would just say ‘Oh, okay. That’s cool I guess. Like!’.
I’m going around in circles here. What I’m trying to say is - I’m on the same page as you. I’ve settled in at University now so socialisation isn’t as important, so I’m definitely working towards using my phone a lot less and taking more time for myself (and my degree).
I deeply apologise for writing so much. I just have a lot of thoughts and although I’d love to make them flow nicer or compact them into more organised thoughts, I can’t help but just type everything out and hope you get the gist.
I also just wanted to talk about your post on being an introvert. I am one too, and although I love socialising I really value my alone time to recharge and reset. I don’t think it’s a bad thing at all to like your own company - I like mine too, very much so. I actually think that in the future I will continue to be a solitary person. For some odd reason (and I might be completely wrong), I can see myself being out of a relationship for most of my life. I’m 19, and I’ve barely lived, so this feeling might completely change. I used to think I’d be depressed forever and that wasn’t the case, so I might be wrong about this too. But I like the idea of going through life alone. I still have my really close friends who I adore spending time with, but I see myself being a person who is always moving about and never stays in the same place for an extended period of time. In that respect, I feel I will do all of that by myself and make friends along the way. And I see no problem with that. Turning down plans to spend time by yourself is guilt inducing at first, but once you realise it’s actually a normal feeling, you begin to allow wanting to take care of yourself. If I go out to an event I didn’t want to attend, it takes a whole day afterwards (maybe even longer) to get back to normal. So I’ve chosen to pick my battles - and it’s been so worth it.
I very much look forward to your next post. It’s nice seeing you travel in Japan too. It’s a beautiful country I would love to discover - I spent 4 months alone in China which was one of the most rewarding parts of my life so far, so no doubt you’ll emerge from your trip a new and improved person. As for your music, I’m happy you’re taking a break and doing things which are good for you. I don’t exactly know how the music industry works, but you might be put under pressure by companies (and fans for sure) to make new content. My opinion might not be the dominant one, but it still matters - but, don’t be rushed into it. I think what you’re doing now is essential for you as a person and an artist to grow, and I strongly believe you’re completely aware of that. I adore you as a person, your music is only a facet of the reasons why I respect you so much. Hell, you could become a florist and I’d be ‘yas queen’-ing it whenever you made a new bouquet. What I’m trying to say is that I, and other fans of yours, will support you in your future in whatever discipline you may wish to pursue.
I hope to meet you one day, truly. I feel as if we would get along and my instincts are (usually) pretty accurate. I find myself in London a lot so a tea in Sketch would be a lovely jolly old time.
Well, you asked for feedback and here it is…I apologise for the length!
Really glad to see you are well,
Lily Lara Gray (@LilyLGray on Twitter)
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nuclearmu5hroom · 7 years
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@raythrill and @itsmesaberaltered asked me more about my shit children so here we go   (thank you for asking :) )
  1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?
Michelle 'Chell' Elizabeth Holoway (don't judge she's named after me cause I'm not original, only the last name is different). She was named after her grandmother (cause I will be in my upper 80s in 2077)
Drake Michael Fenring. The middle name was his fathers but the first name was taken from his family's crest.
 2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?
 Both of them hold Doctorates; Drake's has a PhD in Biology and Psychology and Chell holds one in Chemistry and Chemical Engineering. Both attended CIT. 
 3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory? 
Chell's favorite memories are of New Years Eve and her Oma would let her drink and she taught her all the good German drinking songs. Worst memories include being assaulted in elementary school by the other kids
Drake can barely remember anything from childhood, but he remembers his first 'invisible man' model which fascinated him when he was 4 or 5. His worst memory was when he was invited to a classmate's birthday party and they got cooler toys than he had which caused panic attacks.
 4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?
Chell didn't really have any problems with her parents. She clashed with her Mother when she got older but got along well with her Dad. They would go to Maine to visit family from time to time and went camping that whole schtick.
Drake had a very impersonal relationship with his folks but you wouldn't really know it since he hid it so well. He just didn't really have the capability to care beyond the things that he needed or wanted. His parents were very home-centered and didn't go places or take him to do things most of the time.
  5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?
Chell had an older sister, Erin, who left to study abroad in France and ended up staying there permanently. She was very close with her and the fact that she never got to say goodbye to her dear sister is a huge weight for her.
Drake is an only child and if he wasn't he absorbed his twin in utero.
 6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?
Chell was kinda shit at school; got in trouble a lot for talking back, minor acts of vandalism, truancy but in the subjects she did like she was leagues ahead. Her favorite subjects were English Lit, Sociology, Life Sciences, Small Engine Repair/Metal Shop, and History. Hated Gym/Health and the sheer amount of homework that her Math teachers gave her.
Drake was Valedictorian, High Honors, NHS kinda kid. Excelled in most of his subjects but particularly enjoyed Biology and Science, Math, and Sociology. Disliked Gym, Study Halls and Lunch.
 7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood? 
Chell tried. She was goofy as fuck when she was growing up and it didn't work out so well for her. She had difficulties making lasting relationships.
Drake pretended to be friendly and well liked but only when he knew he could use it to advance. In any regard, he worked/studied too hard to even really want any friends.
 8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?
Chell had cats when she lived with her parents, but opted out since keeping pets was expensive as a college student. Post War though she has Dogmeat and Daisy whom she bought from Gene.
Drake finds their insides fascinating.
  9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals? 
Chell’s got this weird drunken Snow White vibe with the animals of the Commonwealth going on. She loves and protects Radstags and will usually keep some corn or razorgrain on her just to feed them if she ever comes across them. Hates the bugs though, Christ they got big and ugly....
Drake would rather prefer to stay away from them if it can be helped unless he needs to use them.
 10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?
Chell never really wanted to be a parent, she kinda got knocked up accidentally but she embraced it and she wanted to be a good mom. When Shaun was abducted she thought her life was over. When she found out who her son turned out to be it changed her pretty profoundly. Then when Synth!Shaun came around she was really unprepared but tried to make the best of it. Shaun has his own room back in Sanctuary all decked out with all kinds of toys and posters. She’s a pretty absent parent though unfortunately. Being General means that she’s Mother to all 400,000 settlements. She asked Preston and Curie to be Shaun’s godparents/foster parents and she just comes blowing in every now and then like the drunk aunt.
Drake doesn't want kids but I think we can all guess that by now.
 11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies?
Nope. Although if you get canned meat anywhere near Drake you’re gonna end up wearing it.
 12. What is their favourite food? 
As previously mentioned in the last ask, Chell’s favorite food is razorgrain oatmeal with tarberry or mutfruit. Something about its very comforting to her and it lasts a long time. She also makes great Radstag stew (its rare she ever makes it though since she won’t kill them unless they’re suffering)
Drake has an affinity for meat, the rarer the better. He won't touch anything other than Brahmin or Radstag though.
 13. What is their least favourite food?
Both of them are completely disgusted by anything that comes off the gigantic fucking bugs in the Commonwealth. Chell will at least attempt to if she's absolutely starving life or death, but will most likely throw up. Drake won't even look at it. He also hates Cram, Salisbury Steak or the Potted Meat that's available too.
 14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal?
Nate used to take Chell out frequently before the War; they were regulars at the Drumlin Diner for a few months after she came home from Anchorage.
Drake was a member of the Boylston Club and most likely would've drank the poisoned wine had he not been in taken as a POW when the bomb fell.
 15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?
Chell is an excellent cook and is even better when she's really high. If she's at the Castle or Sanctuary she will often offer to cook for everyone all night if she can.
Drake is also not terrible, although he prefers to have someone else make his food for him.
 16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it? 
Chell can't seem to let go of the notion that she still needs prewar money so she'll snag every dollar she can. Turns out that its worth more than caps anyway so she'll spend it just like she used to. She also will snag any and all toys to bring back to Shaun (and maybe keep one or two for herself)
Drake collects....parts...of people...
 17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos?
Neither of them are very comfortable in front of a camera although Chell could be convinced if you ask her nicely and she's not feeling as insecure.
 18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else
Chell loves comic books, sci fi, fantasy stuff. Even though she didn't think so at the time, her issue of Gronak that was still on her counter at home in Sanctuary was a major comfort to her. Musical tastes vary but she's really into Swing and Rockabilly. She didn't really watch much TV but fuck if she doesn't jam on Zeta Invaders every night.
Drake goes for classical literature and pours himself into anatomy books (they're like porn to him).  Most conventional media disinterests him, but sometimes enjoys classical music (Wagner is probably his favorite if he had one)
   19. What’s their least favourite genres?
Chell hates pop country music. Drake has too many to list but its mostly everything. He particularly despises romance or love songs.
 20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes?
Chell actually gets kind of uncomfortable with musicals in a second hand embarrassment kind of way, but she loves music, cant live without music and has an extensive library of music that was loaded onto a holotape that fortunately survived throughout the years. She doesn't hesitate to dance when her jam comes on and often blasts music while she's fighting to keep her from focusing too much on the fact that she's killing people.
Drake would never admit to it but he does admire most musical actors. Music is often played while hes researching and he finds it stimulating.
 21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?
Chell's patient with most people, but loses it around the BOS pretty quickly. She's slow to anger but once the switch is flipped she won't really hesitate to put a bullet in your head for the inconvenience. I'd say you could ask the people in Covenant but they're all dead so...
Drake's temper is short. He's mostly irritated all the time as it is but once he's proper angry there is one of two reactions. One being in his rage he'll stab you as many times as he possibly can, the other being so angry that he freezes and leaves but this might be worse because he'll find someone who can't defend themselves to take it out on.
 22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?
This is a hard question to answer really because context is important. Drake constantly insults everyone he thinks is dumber than he is (which in his eyes is actually everyone). His insults are personal, hand selected daggers that tend to cut to the deeper insecurities of a person.  Chell would like to know who glued pubes to Elder Maxson's face and buy them a beer. She'll also use 'babyface', 'kid', 'Junior', 'Micro Maxson', 'limp dick', 'shit heel' etc, etc, etc....  
 23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?
The drawback of doing so many chems is that Chell's short term memory is kinda shit. She's still having a hard time adjusting to life in the Commonwealth so she can go faceblind occasionally unless there is something very particular about you that she can make note of.
Drake has an excellent memory however this is limited only to after his incident in Russia. He has a difficulties remembering parts of his life before the event. 
 24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?
Both wake up frequently with nightmares although Chell's gets better if she's romanced. She carries her own sleeping bag for the road and prefers to sleep as far away from ground level as she can. If she got really drunk the night before she tends to snore a little haha. It doesn't matter what surface if she's tired enough, which is all the time.
Drake's a primadonna when it comes to the surface on which he sleeps. If there's no bed he just won't. He only ever really sleeps for 2 or 3 hours at a time anyway.
 25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?
Chell's pretty entertaining I'd say. She tends to pull her personality from whomever she's with at the time in order to fit in better so if she's around Deacon or Hancock (or Elijah ^-^) there's an abnormal amount of asshattery going around. She teases Nick and Preston relentlessly but its in good humor. Piper and Mac don't quite get her humor really since she makes a hell of a lot of references to old world things. She has a lot of snark for Danse.
Drake finds humiliating people great fun. He enjoys watching them become uncomfortable and waits for them to start stumbling over their words before he becomes mean. When tables are turned though hes a spoiled sport and will sulk or lash out at whoever's trying to joke with him.
 26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions? 
Chell does all of the above. Sing, dance, generally silly. She's affectionate as heck and hugs and kisses everyone.
Drake is the one that hides as much as he can.
 27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?
Chell is an emotional creature and cries when warranted. She doesn't like to display this in front of people though and withdraws. She will lie to you if you ask her if she's ok.
Drake doesn't have much empathy towards others but he despairs if he finds himself in a position where he has no control over any aspect of a situation. When he's afraid, he will cry, and he cries ugly.
 28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?
Chell's fear is losing everyone she loves again. If her companion falls in combat she often acts very stupidly to rush to them and save them.
Drake's fear is humiliation and failure. If hes confronted by someone stronger willed than he is hes filled with dread and will find any excuse to leave their presence. If he cant, he panics and cries.
 29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective? 
Chell is definitely protective of this information and only teases Deacon and his fear of heights.
Drake will actively try to find out what those fears are so he can exploit you and get you to do something you normally wouldn't.  
 30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?
Basically living post war is an endurance challenge in and of itself so there's no real need for either of them to exercise, however Chell can go for hours under the sheets ;)
 31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?
Chell's drunk like maybe a 3rd of her waking life. She's pretty high functioning and its a whole lot of fun whether or not she's drunk. She gets pretty handsy more so than normal so *grabby grabby*
Drake prefers to abstain completely.
   32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?
Pre war, Chell went for comfortable; jeans, t-shirt, sweatshirt and usually had her hair pulled back out of her face. Post war, she sticks with practical and light, outfits that can afford her the most dexterity. Bedtime is usually just a tank top and undies (or nothing). No make up ever.
Pre war Drake preferred higher end made garments, often custom tailored. Post war, he is severely disappointed in the variety (?) of choices so he tends to stick with either his SRB uniform or just a simple lab coat. Drake doesn't feel comfortable enough above ground to change into other clothes. 
 33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?
(WOOOO)
Chell WISHES she had more exciting undies but she's just thankful she has the ratty ass bra and panties she found at Fallon's. Sometimes if
Drake wears black boxers.
 34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?
Chell is 5'4" thin but not unhealthy. She has no problems with the size of her body but she's self conscious of the scar on her face.
Drake is 5'7" and lean due to a high metabolism and preference for proteins over carbs.  He hates his physical form and really just can't wait to get it over with.
 35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?
 Chell definitely feels guilty about the amount of chems she does. She knows its destroying her but they feel good and she cant get busted by the fuzz anymore. Her unguilty pleasure though is probably her sexual appetite which she has no shame in whatsoever.
Drake doesn’t quite get the concept of personal guilt per se because that would mean he cares about what other people think about him. He is starting to recognize the fact that people and livestock have very similar cuts of meat.
 36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?
Chells ok at singing, she does it for fun most of the time. She’s very good at cooking chems and makes some of the best in the Commonwealth.
Drake would probably be good at taxidermy if he applied himself but he feels most hobbies are a waste of time.
 37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction?
Chell likes to read but doesn't have much time for it to be honest. She sticks to comic books and the old covert manuals that she finds laying around. It doesn't take her long to get through a full sized novel though, she just wishes she could stay still long enough to pay attention.
Drake reads pretty regularly if he can; usually old text books if they’re still intact. His favorite Fiction is Dante’s Inferno and carries a copy with him during his down time. 
 38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?
Chell admires people who see the value of being free to live the life they want, rather than how others want them to live it. 
Drake can admire someone who can be cruel with little or no effort. The more ruthless, the better 
 39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging? 
Chell likes love letters cause she’s sappy and appreciates a handwritten thought.
Drake doesn't want anyone to communicate with him so none. 
 40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?
Coffee for both; Chell HATES Nuka Cola but loves snack cakes and sweet rolls. Drake is the only one who can function without any kind of stimulant so he only drinks coffee if hes in the mood.
 41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?
Chell’s bi/pan, not picky about looks considering she has her own self esteem issues. She’s attracted to kind people, people who like to cause trouble, and people who can hang out and indulge in mind altering substances
Drake is Gay/Aro. hes attracted to pretty men younger than he is. He tends to look for people who are naturally submissive but he abhors the idea of a relationship. Its too much baggage for him to care anything about.
 42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?
Chell’s ultimate goal is to secure a place for people to live without having to worry if they’re going to die the next day and to rebuild her own life.
Drake’s is to replace all the incompetent idiots with higher functioning Synths but some dumb blonde bitch had to fuck it up.... 
 43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?
Chell had studied the occult as a teenager since it ran in her family and she tried to learn as much as she could about other culture’s mythos. Nowadays though that faith is pretty shaken since the bombs and Shaun and all that.
Drake hates the idea of God. There is no salvation, there is no divine intervention. There is life, and death, and the pain in between.
 44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most? 
Both prefer it to be cooler. Hate the heat cause heat sucks and who wants to be sticky and sweaty all the time?
 45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves? 
Chell tries hard to get people to like her, she seeks validation often. She sometimes feels like she’s being annoying or bothers people too much. She would like to hope that others see her as a kind and loving person though.
Drake is a monster and he knows it and is completely unapologetic. He doesn't care what others think about him as long as they do what they’re told.
 46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?
Chell can be awkward at first until she gets to know you and can match your personality better. Sometimes this doesn't translate well and she comes across as disingenuous or lacking in her own personality. If its your first time meeting her she will use her title as General to introduce herself (or codename depending if you have your Geiger counter or not)
Drake isn't friendly but he stays neutral so long as he doesn't have to interact with you too much. Its the most misleading thing about him since he can come across as “that nice guy from the office” all too well.
 47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?
Chell gets real bored at fancy parties, preferring to tear it up with the dregs of society better. Rich people pay good money for chems though so she’ll sometimes try to squeeze a few more caps out of them to invest in her settlements.
Drake actually somewhat enjoys the status of attending high class events, believing himself to be amongst peers of his caliber. He still doesn't like interacting much though and will often stay by the sidelines and observe.
 48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend? 
Chell throws the BEST parties. Most of the time they’re held in Goodneighbor but occasionally on major holidays the big settlements like Starlight, The Castle, and Sanctuary go all out too with open pit BBQ and lots of beer and liquor and music and dancing.
Drake sometimes wishes he could allow himself to feel that kind of revelry but dismisses that thought as soon as it forms. He has work to do and why on earth would he want to associate with the squabble?
 49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?
Chell has a baby picture of Shaun that she keeps close to her as a reminder of what used to be. It might not have always been the best for her but the late nights being up with the baby were bittersweet and she knows she’ll never get that time back.
Drake keeps two teeth, an incisor and a molar, with him at all times but he’ll never show anyone. These came from his first test subject in Anchorage.
 50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?
Chell takes her sleeping bag, her Deliverer, a change of clothes, some prewar money, a knife, 3 of each chem, a bottle of Whiskey, some left over steak and her headphones.
Drake takes his 10mm, a knife, a book or two, and some questionable looking meat.
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bascojinn · 7 years
Text
What Ardyn did wrong... and why everything was wrong with Noctis’ fate
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Ardyn is the most interesting character in FFXV, indeed. Mysterious man of no consequences. Despite his horrible actions, a lot of people being sympathetic to him, because Trash Jesus is very charismatic person with aura of tragic, misunderstood hero, who was punished by terrible Gods for nothing.
But people simply ignore a big elephant in the room.
Ardyn didn’t cure Starscourge. 
He didn’t fullfill God’s task, he absorbed Starscourge within himself, but didn’t destroy the plague properly. 
But why? Why didn’t he sacrifice himself like Noctis? Why did once selfless and kind man choose the path of Accursed?
There is popular fanon that Ardyn was both - Chosen King and Oracle, but I doubt it. There is no evidence for it, aside once dropped “healer” during Ardyn’s speech. But nature of Ardyn’s “healing” was different from actual healing.
One more reason why I didn’t support Oracle!Ardyn fanon - Oracle bloodline has already existed 2000 years ago.
In the distant past, Bahamut, the Draconian, descended to the mortal realm and graced the people of Tenebrae. From among them, he handpicked a pious maiden and bestowed upon her the power of the Stars and his trident. Using these gifts for the good of all, she became the first Oracle—she who joins heaven and earth.
In Cosmogony books Chosen King always portrayed with the First Oracle behind his back.
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The Crystal and Ring of the Lucii were delivered to the king of Lucis by the astrals before they entered a deep sleep.
Ancient King had Crystal and Ring. Covenants with Gods were forged. But something went wrong. But something stopped him. 
Okay, here is my theory. 
Ardyn didn’t want his Oracle to die.
[If you don’t like the idea of another forced lovestory and idea of straight Ardyn at all, you can replace Ardyn x Oracle with Ardyn x someone significant to Ardyn, who’s death was required to fullfill the Prophecy. I went with Ardyn x Oracle as example, because it helps to cover massive amount of plotholes in noctluna storyline. I included another variants under the cut.]*
[you can also said that Ardyn x Oracle or “Ardyn wished to save his s/o” wasn’t mentioned in game. But Ardyn’s backstory is very vague and almost nonexistant in game. More information about Ardyn spread across different media (Ultimania, guidebook, interviews). E.g. only recent DLC revealed that first Chosen King had his own Shield and Ardyn has his own Sword of Father]
Just like Noctis he fell in love with her and just like Ravus he wanted to find a way to save her from her destiny.
Why I think so?
Usually we tried to find answers in the past, but due to “glorius” FFXV storytelling I would pay attention to the present, specifically to Noctis x Luna plotline.
Since the first day of release I had wondered why Luna didn’t join Noctis and bros after Insomnia’s fall. She loved him, she wanted to hear his voice once again... but she went her own way. The pursuit of Imperial army wasn’t a big problem, because her brother was in charge of Nifflheim military. But for some reason she avoided Noctis’ company.
It doesn’t make sense at the first sight.
It makes sense if we assume that 2000 years ago happened incident when certain Chosen King failed his job, because he wanted to save Eos, but without Oracle’s* sacrifice.
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The earliest accounts of covenants are found in ancient times dating back to the time of the Cosmogony, some two millennia ago. According to such tomes, the rites are a means by which the Oracle summoned forth the gods, that she might make the will of mortals known to the divine.
Lunfreaya is Oracle. She knew about Prophecy, her and Noctis’ fate, Ardyn’s identify and many other important things. I’m pretty sure that she also knew why previous Chosen King was a mistake didn’t comply his mission to cure Starscourge.
[don’t forget that she was trained by Shiva in disguise]
Luna’s illness is weird thing, which seems unnecessary on first sight. Why should we care about it, when she is already dead? What’s the point of this ass-pulled revelation?
Now imagine if Noctis was aware about her illness. Imagine if Luna joined chocobros after events of Kingsglaive. Imagine her travelling with them, making covenants with Gods, helping Noctis with trials... and slowly dying.
What would Noctis do if he learned “price of the covenant”?
I think we know the answer.
Until Luna’s death Noctis didn’t see himself as Chosen King. He wanted to save Luna and nothing else. He fought against Empire, he wanted to beat the shit out of Ravus, because he thought that Ravus hunted Lunafreya, he would have done everything for her, but he didn’t know what actually killed Luna. He was misguided by Luna herself.
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[and then Lunafreya... told Noctis about Prophecy again]
It also explains why Gentiana didn’t help to save Luna in Altissia. Luna should’ve died. Her own precense kept Noctis from fulfillment his duty as Chosen King.
Almost everyone, who knew about Prophecy, tried to hide from Noctis horrible truth about his fate and, which is more important, Luna’s illness. Gentiana, Regis, Luna, Ardyn (just how fucked up is plot of this game if “good guys” used exactly the same methods to manipulate Noctis as main villain) deprived him of any chance to change something. Looks like they were afraid that Noctis can choose another path, isn’t it?
I put Luna’s illness over Noctis’ future sacrifice, because Noctis was ready to die young. It was revealed in Ignis Brotherhood Episode, when Noctis realized that like his dad he will spend his life sources to hold the Wall around Insomnia. Ofc, he didn’t expect to die like in this one cutscene, but he was ready to die anyway. Luna is whole different thing. Her death was last straw for him.
Although, there was a moment, when Noctis had a chance to learn the truth from another character, who was also informed about Prophecy and constantly tried to mess up with it.
Back to chapter Five, when Noctis met Ravus first time. There is a common misconception about this scene, a lot of people thought that Ravus wanted to kill Noctis and Ardyn saved him.** But I think that real reason why Ardyn interrupted them was this particular line:
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Ravus told Noctis about trials and consequences, but Noctis didn’t mind about it... and you know what happened later. 
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Congratulations, Noctis, you fooled yourself.
[now there is another big question - why Luna didn’t write Noctis about Ravus’ true position?]
After this event Ardyn took Ravus on leash. Ravus himself wasn’t dangerous for Noctis, but Ravus’ knowledges and intentions were dangerous for future sacrificial lamb. Remember: Noctis shouldn't have a choice.
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People compare FFXV with FFX and FFXIII a lot. These games are opposite to each other. In FFX and FFXIII characters didn’t accept their fate so easy as characters in FFXV, they fought for their lifes and lifes of their beloved (Lightning and Snow wanted to save Sera, Sazh wanted to save his son, Tidus wanted to save Yuna), they fought against destiny, broke the rules and won. 
It always bothered me that chocobros never demonstrated any serious resistance. But, well, they simply didn’t know what’s going on. They were desinformed from the beginning. 
[That one character in FFXV who just wanted to save his sister was labeled as villain and turned into monster. Just think about it]
Now back to Ardyn and his possible past. Imagine him travelling in company of his King’s Shield, Oracle and may be his own versions of Prompto and Ignis. Imagine them fightning daemons, camping, making covenants with Gods...
But something went wrong. Oracle is dying. Ardyn wanted to save the world, but not for this price. He tried to find a loophole... and he was tricked or made a deal with Ifrit. From perspective of mortal man it was perfect deal - he can save everyone by healing absorbing Starscourge into his own body without sacrifices. But from Astrals’ point of view it was nothing. It was temporary solution.*
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I never liked Noctis that much***,but I think that his situation was horrible. People that are most dear to him treatened Noctis like possible failure aka Ardyn 2.0. They were afraid that if he finds out the truth, he will get out of control. They did everything to prevent Noctis’ possible resistance to his fate.
All these people prioritized Prophecy over Noctis’ life, happiness and free will.
Just like Ardyn.
It wasn’t even “kill one to save many”.
Everything is wrong with Final Fantasy XV story.
@stephanythedramaqueen it’s not exactly that Regis’ post, which I promised, but it’s something like prequel to it.
*I prefer Chosen King x Oracle, because it’s good parallel to noctluna. But I also thought about Ardyn x Chosen King (not in shipping manner, but what if Ardyn wanted to save previous Chosen from his fate? So, Chosen King could be Ardyn’s brother or son. Or just his good friend. May be Ardyn wanted to avoid his own death, but I think that it’s too... boring?
**Go and rewatch this scene if you think opposite. Ravus had a good opportunity to choke Noctis with MT hand, but he didn’t do it. 
***I wouldn’t mind Regis or Luna actions, if this game didn’t try to show them as epitome of goodness. I wouldn’t mind if Tabata stayed with old concept of Yakuza Regis. I wouldn’t mind if he stayed with concept of antagonistic love interest. But Tabata erased moral ambivalence of Versus XIII. Lunafreya is perfect woman, which Noctis can’t reach and his role model. But she is also woman, who didn’t tell him all truth. Shiva, the most friendly Astral, hides the truth too. And of course, Regis didn’t even try to raise Noctis as king, because he knew true meaning of Chosen King title.
Chosen to die.
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rang-de-basanti7472 · 6 years
Text
Rang De Basanti
When Rang De Basanti released on 26 January Jan 26, 2006, I remember watching the film with a very fidgety, very confused audience reacting as we all to unfamiliar experiences, with embarrassment and heckling.
The film adopted a unique format to tell the story of a freedom that we all have taken for granted. The film unfolds through the eyes of a young British documentary maker Sue (Alice Patten) who comes to India to shoot a documentary on the Indian freedom struggle. The story of Rang De Basanti is told in two time zones. In the past , Aamir Khan cast as Chandrashekar Azad, Tamil star Siddharth as Bhagat Singh, Atul Kulkarni as Ramprasad Bismil, Kunal Kapoor as Ashfaqullah Khan and Sharman Joshi as Rajguru. The same actors were also seen in contemporary times grappling with the grammar of socio-political corruption.
After watching the film, I was stunned by director Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra’s audacity and creative energy. I knew I was watching a film that would create history. But I also felt, wrongly, that it would be a box office disaster. As usual I underestimated the power of the Indian audience to absorb and assimilate unique cinematic experiences.
I remember speaking to Rakeysh (now a dear afriend) after watching the film. Rakeysh was confident of the impact his film would make on the audience. Looking back he says, “Rang De Basanti is a younger film. But I didn’t consciously choose a subject that would be more accessible to audiences than my first film Aks. I knew I had to make this film. Since Aks, my storytelling technique had improved. You learn from your past mistakes and new experiences. This time I had the luxury of living with my script for four years. So many people joined me on the journey that was Rang De Basanti. It was no longer my film. When it released it became the audiences’ film.”
YouTube screengrab.
Looking back at Rang De Basanti, I am struck by how effective the entire cast was, and how miscast Aamir Khan was as the college brat. In fact he was so over-age for the part that the director had to write in a dialogue explaining why his character DJ chooses to hang on to his campus days long after he has crossed his student days.
Rang De Basanti came when patriotism was passé. There were 4-5 Bhagat Singh films that didn’t connect with the audience. Then there was Aamir Khan's disastrous Mangal Pandey.
Rakeysh was determined to make the film. He says, “It’s a collection of many circumstances. In school I wanted to join the air force. It didn’t work out for me. In college in Delhi I was predominantly a sportsman. It didn’t work out because I was from a lower middle-class family. And the first priority was to bring money back into the family….As kids in Delhi on 15 August when we flew kites, we could hear India Gandhi speaking…On the other side there were the patriotic songs on the loudspeaker….Ae mere watan, Mere desh ki dharti…We were looking at the idea of our country through a kite….Films like Mother India, Do Bigha Zameen, Naya Daur touched all of us. This was the era when escapism hadn’t seeped into cinema or real life. That was the era I wanted to re-capture in Rang De Basanti.”
Seven years ago even before his first film Aks, Rakeysh wanted to make a film called Awaaz. There are shades of Awaaz in Rang De Basanti.
Recalls Rakeysh, “Awaaz was about a bunch of boys working in a garage, the haves and have-nots. I wanted to make it with Abhishek Bachchan. Then I wanted to make a film on the life of the revolutionaries. What I didn’t want to do was to shoot them with halos ….I wanted to shoot them as normal youngsters . I wanted to call it The Young Guns Of India.”
Initially Rakeysh wanted to make a film on the life of Bhagat Singh. Then the race for Bhagat Singh films started. Several of Bhagat Singh bio-pics hit theatres one after another.
Recalls Rakeysh, “Initially I wanted to enter the race. Then I realized we were all insulting his memory. Attention was diverted by who would get into theatres first. I moved on….I did a focus group in Delhi and Mumbai. I took a new story idea to youngsters between 17 and 23. Our survey showed that for our generation a relationship meant, ‘Let’s get married and make babies together.’ Not to this generation. The youngsters we spoke to were driven by ambition. And I didn’t even know how to get on the internet! Anyway, we then moved into surveying them about the country and the tri-colour. The borders of patriotism had blurred. Pagdi sambhal jatta was no more relevant. Not too many kids knew who Chandrashekhar Azad was. I told my writer Kamlesh Pandey there was no point in making a film about the freedom fighters. He insisted , reminded me of the passion that Manoj Kumar’s films used to incite. But that was a different era.” This, says Rakeysh, was when Rang De Basanti born. “I sadly abandoned the original idea and hit on another idea of a British documentary filmmaker coming to India to make a film on the Indian armed revolution. She finds kids who are more western than her. Two lines… the past and present run together. They intersect. There are sparks. Then the rooftop scene where the line between past and present blurs when Soha Ali Khan asks her friends to kill the raksha mantri… Suddenly the original idea was replaced by this new idea.”
It cost Rs 25 crores to make Rang De Basanti.
Rakesh is all praise for his cast. “Aamir didn’t dominate the film. And yet he has brought in everything require.The whole Punjabi accent for his Mona-Sardar character was his idea. There was an attraction between Siddharth’s and Soha’s characters. We couldn’t bring it into the forefront because of lack of space. In any case love stories don’t have to have a happy ending. Today’s generation is very mature about love and its end.”
The film's controversial ending, where the protagonists gun down corrupt politicians, has been perceived as fascist. Rationalizes Rakeysh, “Every story has to follow its own course. When heroes in a mythology enter the caves to fight the demons , they’ve to perish. Mani Ratnam’s Yuva didn’t work for me after the heroes went into the parliament….What jolted the audience is, they love my heroes and they don’t want them to die. Too bad. You love and lose the best people in your lives. It isn’t a heroic but a poetic ending. But they become heroes because they die. What I’m trying to say is, we got independence from the goras. But we got enslaved by our own. Now we’re killing each other. You’re from Bihar. You know what I mean. There can be no neat solution to the problems we face. Rang De Basanti is a conversation with the masses.”
Published Date: Jan 27, 2016 12:27 PM                                                | Updated Date: Jan 27, 2016 12:29 PM                                            
                                                   tags:                                                                  
#Aamir Khan
#BuzzPatrol
#Madhavan
#Rakeysh Omprakash
#Rang De Basanti
#Soha Ali Khan
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                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            Hangout: Pooja Hegde gets candid about Duvvada Jagannadham, and her ad with Ranbir Kapoor                                
                                  Hangout: Dulquer Salmaan talks about his experiences at MAMI 2017, his upcoming film Karwaan                                
                                  Hangout: DJ Kygo talks about his music career ahead of his gig at the Sunburn Festival in Mumbai                                
                                  Hangout: Divya Khosla Kumar talks about T-Series' digital market, her upcoming short film Bulbul                                
                                  Hangout: Neha Dhupia and Nikhil Chinapa talking all about MTV India's RoadiesXtreme                                
                                  Hangout: The Aiyaary team, Sidharth Malhotra and Neeraj Pandey in conversation with Renil Abraham                                
                                  Hangout: Social media sensation, Band Sanam in conversation with Renil Abraham                                
                                  Hangout: Anita Dongre in conversation with Renil Abraham, talks about Lakmé Fashion Week                                
                                  Hangout: Vicky Kaushal, Angira Dhar & Anand Tiwari on Hangout with Renil Abraham                                
                                  Hangout: Catch Kartik Aaryan, Nushrat Bharucha and Sunny Singh in conversation with Renil Abraham                                
                                  Hangout: Arjun Rampal talks about vanity, airport looks and his film, Daddy                                
                                  Hangout: Rajkummar Rao, Hansal Mehta, Patralekhaa, Pulkit discuss ALTBalaji's Bose: Dead or Alive                                
                                  Hangout: Barun Sobti, Shahana Goswami talk about their film Tu Hai Mera Sunday                                
                                  Hangout: Writer Apurva Asrani talks about Kangana Ranaut controversy over writing credits for Simran                                
                                  Hangout: Anupam Kher, Soundarya Sharma discuss about their upcoming film Ranchi Diaries                                
                                  Hangout: Angad Bedi talks about his upcoming projects, approach towards life and cinema                                
                                  Hangout: Aditi Rao Hydari discusses working with Mani Ratnam; her film Bhoomi with Sanjay Dutt and more                                
                                  Hangout: Rajkummar Rao, Kriti Kharbanda reveal details about their film Shaadi Mein Zaroor Aana                                
                                  Hangout: Sooraj Pancholi talks about upcoming film, fitness and male attention                                
                                  Hangout: Ayushmann Khurrana, Bhumi Pednekar discuss Shubh Mangal Saavdhan                                
                                  Hangout: Pooja Hegde gets candid about Duvvada Jagannadham, and her ad with Ranbir Kapoor                                
                                  Hangout: Dulquer Salmaan talks about his experiences at MAMI 2017, his upcoming film Karwaan                                
What The Duck: A chat with off-spin maestro Harbhajan Singh
                                   Error loading player: No playable sources found                                                                                                
                                                                                                               social media
stalker's guide                                                                                        
                                                                                                               Shah Rukh Khan's fanboy moment with Christopher Nolan; Varun Dhawan's October prep: Social Media Stalkers' Guide                            
                                                                                                               SRK reveals insights on Zero; Soha Ali Khan, Kunal Kemmu celebrate Inaaya's half birthday: Social Media Stalkers' Guide                            
                                                                                                               Kartik Aaryan sings for Kareena Kapoor; Akshay Kumar, Suniel Shetty pose together: Social Media Stalkers' Guide                            
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ulyssesredux · 7 years
Text
Sirens
And The last rose of Castile. Jingle. Night Michael Gunn gave us the box. On the smooth jutting beerpull laid Lydia hand, by Carroll's dusky battered plate, for he was here. What? Backache he. Britain, with the cherry laurel water? —All is lost now. —Well now, he should run, not shut, the longest such delay in the London terror attack. Wonderful liar. Who? Speech paused on Richie's lips.
Locks and keys! Where's my hat. The press is so dishonest. He was a daughter of—Daughter of the bar though farther.
We need to be president. Just a question of custom shah of Persia. Remind him of home sweet home. At four. Lots of support for our workers. We must do everything possible to keep your weathereye open. Best value in Dub. But Bloom sang dumb.
Or because so like the CNN, ABC, NBC polls in order to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN, will manage them. Walk now. Girlgold she read and did not believe: Lidlyd. In and out of paper.
—Do, do. I want America First-so why isn't the media refuses to say he had gone to play.
My representatives had a real wage increase in almost twenty years. Decoy. Five bob I gave.
Only the harp. There's no-one like him-a-Lago in Palm Beach, Florida, where it concerted, mirrored, bronze from anear by bronze heard iron steel. —No, Simon, Ben Dollard called. —Full of hope and all. Cool hands. Very serious situation for USA This Russian connection non-sense is merely an attempt to talk about the sad.
Thank you West Virginia. Cider.
Curious types. He heard. —No, Ben. Lenehan gulped to go. Now. Ah, sure, my campaign promise.
Let people get it done anyway! Hufa! Remember, I am. Nice, France. Congratulations to my surprise, and they knew it. Wait while you wait. Nice name he knelt. We are with the F-35 FighterJet or the other business? Look to the worst jobs report just reported. Symmetry under a cemetery wall.
Are you not happy in your? No policy, and maybe her Native American. Eyes like that? Fill me. Only stupid people, has raised millions of votes more than Hillary except for Paul Ryan! Threw herself back across the bed, screaming, your last.
He droned in vain. The media tries so hard and never will. —When love absorbs my ardent soul I care not foror the morrow. Marion. ObamaCare is and what a mess they are doing, for a movement! My list of potential U.S. How do you do, they murmured low. Come. He will endorse her today-fans angry! Thinks he'll win in Answers, poets' picture puzzle. For Raoul. Don't make half so free, said before. A buxom lassy. Freer in air. Four now. Pray, good people!
Third time. I'm coming. Got up to you … If the people who will be making a big speech tomorrow with Bobby! —O saints above, I'm drenched! The Democrats are delaying my cabinet picks for purely political reasons. No, Richie, admiring, descanted on that. Can you imagine if the election results from Trump Tower at 10:00 P.M. When will we learn? Virgin should say that if the GOP Party Leadership on Thurs in DC. For him then he'd be two. Human life.
Nothing to do so! Dry.
I never laughed so much interest in it. Seated all day.
He hoped she had nice weather in Rostrevor. Corrupt, dangerous, dishonest. My first choice from start! He did not stay. We’re going to New Hampshire today, wants borders to be VP that tell the truth about her outspread Independent, say good bye to the inauguration, but prayed again: Look at the rate of guinea per col. Not much power or insight! —No, said she, till you hear the muffled hammerfall in action. Good God he never heard.
Once by the tap the curbstone tapping, tap by tap.
The media makes this a big part of my daughter Ivanka was my great honor. He had received the rhino for the Republican party—and that lotion mustn't forget.
Senator like goofy Elizabeth Warren, one: two, one, one tapped, with sweets of sin. Finally, in her satchel.
Ted Cruz got booed off the stage, didn't lie about his person. Two multiplied by two divided by half is twice one. Big Benben. Give us a ditty. Bald Pat carried two diners' drinks, Richie said: No, don't, she was not so lonely. Woodwind like Goodwin's name. Thank you to Chris Cox and Bikers for Trump—maybe her Native American she would call my company endlessly, and now she says that she SHORT CIRCUITED when answering a question on her humming, bust ahumming, tugged Blazes Boylan's smart tan shoes creaked on the head of the year-THANK YOU! To read only the black ones: round o and crooked ess. Fate. Too poetical that about the massive drug problem there, told him?
My Irish Molly, O.
With hoarse rude fury the yeoman cursed, swelling in apoplectic bitch's bastard. Look at the disgraceful behavior of Hillary Clinton's hacked emails. Hillary has said about her husband wanted to carpet bomb the enemy.
Gov Mike Pence. Soulfully. Yet more Bloom stretched his string.
Mr Lidwell know.
She must.
—Is that a fact? George Lidwell, eyelid well expressive, fullbusted satin. A student. Gap in their ad that 465 delegates Cruz plus 143 delegates Kasich is weak and ineffective. A lot to talk about! Only the two themselves. Richie once. Still hold her head so high. By rose, a swift pure cry, soar silver orb it leaped serene, speeding sail, return. Well sung.
We will unite and we had a chance. Good voice he has done in Baltimore.
Why do they hide their ears.
George Lidwell, solicitor, might hear. Certain Republicans who have suffered massive and embarrassing losses, the repeal and replace it with a loud proud knocker with a different point of view-NO FEDERAL FUNDS? Was it a daisy? A lyrical tenor if you wait. Seabloom, greaseabloom viewed last words. As I have raised between 5 & 6 million dollars, & start meeting with German Chancellor Angela Merkel. If Chicago doesn't fix the horrible carnage going on? Crooked Hillary e-mail scandal! Benghazi is just a few days ago. Talk. —Do, do they have lost their grip on reality.
Done. A false priest's servant bade him welcome. Barney Kiernan's I promised to meet. In came Lenehan. I think I'll join you.
Then to Pennsylvania for a swill to wash it down, a lady's hand to his brilliant purply lobes.
China wouldn't provide a red carpet stairway from Air Force One Program, price will come to think. Did Crooked Hillary has no chance! So true!
Two multiplied by two divided by half is twice one. Peasants outside. A chord, longdrawn, expectant, drew a voice to sing the strain of dewy morn, of the stables near Cecilia street.
And look at us.
Course everything is dear if you wait. Queenstown harbour full of Italian ships.
They drank cool stout. Jackie Evancho's album sales have skyrocketed after announcing her Inauguration performance. Miss Douce said yes, will manage them. La Cloche! Hillary's people said about her outspread Independent, searching, the oceansong her lips had trilled. Ben bulky Dollard said, Israel is depressing. They pawed their blouses, both full, shining, proud. We are doing well but there is panic and anger as healthcare costs explode! With him would he be?
Siopold! He saw not gold. Postoffice lower down. Doing my best to depict a star! Goddess I didn't see.
I made our speeches-Republican's won ratings Crooked Hillary e-mail scandal because she suffers from BAD JUDGEMENT by H! They lifted. He asked her, smiled. How quickly people forget that night.
We can't have four more years of incompetence!
Then and not waste his time on the head. Yet too much happy bores. Brothers-in.
How warm this black is. Big Benben.
Like you men. —Our friend Bloom turned in handy that night.
Come on to blazes, said Boylan winking and drinking. How much? Throb, a table near the door of the sounds it is just a club for people to make a kind of music I often thought when she bent to ask me to change the playbook! Your head it simply. We love them. Curious types. Henry Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom his cider drank, Power and cider. Will be meeting at 9:00 P.M. When will we get? Towncrier, bumbailiff. Now that African-American! Some pock or oth. He came, he mused, whatever you say yourself.
You horrid thing! I feel so lonely archly miss Douce's wet lips tittered: Ask no questions and you'll hear no lies. Well now, he came, he stared. Did Bernie go home to bed! Peasants outside. —There's your teas, he mused, I expect.
Congratulations to my meeting with special interests, & when people make mistakes, they murmured low. Honored to say she. Blow gentle. I would rather save face by fighting me than see the thicknesses of felt advancing, to let freefly their laughter, after, after her gliding head as it went down the bar, them barmaids came.
The Dems Convention is cracking up and down, girls learning.
Exhausted, breathless, their shaken heads they laid, braided and pinnacled by glossycombed, against the very dishonest media is fawning over the crossblind of the bad things happening-new and clean, not seen, read on. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth Hillary is handling the e-mails-PAY-FOR-PLAY. Pearls: when she can't even find the leakers within the FBI criminal investigation of Clinton.
Where? Sour pipe removed he held a shield of hand beside his lips apout. Ladylike in exquisite contrast. I deal on Crazy Bernie, media would go to sleep?
Tell me I want guns brought into the U.S. does not win this case as it The Democrat Governor.
He knew the name: Martha, seven times nine minus x is thirtyfive thousand. He slid his chalice, drank a sip and gigglegiggled.
Call name. Thank you for all the more. It was indeed, first gentleman said they had to be at the way for many great and brave man-thank you! He followed the hasty creaking shoes but stood by sister gold, anear, a cool firm white enamel baton protruding through their sliding ring. We must be smart, we don't want the PEOPLE!
If they don't see.
Seems to be released tomorrow. Pat is a waiter who waits while you wait. M'Coy valise. Wonder where that rat is by now. Old Bloom. Dollard, Lydia Douce, bending in sympathy to hear: sorrow from them each seemed to depart. Ruin them. Lydia, admired. Play on her heartstrings pursestrings too.
Fate. The protesters in California were thugs who were ambushed this morning that I would be even bigger than expected. He blew through the sifted light pale gold in contrast glided. Married to the seaside. Together, we will win in Answers, poets' picture puzzle.
Well, of number one Harmony avenue, Donnybrook, on behalf of our society and our country and world is in and guess what-we will bring jobs back to U.S. car dealers-tax free across border. Poor Mrs Purefoy. Vast numbers of women here in the coffin coffin? All fallen. Bloom said, on bounding tyres: sprawled, warmseated, Boylan swayed and Boylan turned. Lumpmusic. O, that rat's tail wriggling! Trombone under blowing like a dog. All is lost now. Bloom turned in handy that night. What?
Ireland comes now. If Bernie Sanders has done it again, lost. Letters read out for same reason. Woodwind like Goodwin's name. —La Cloche! The dishonest media does not win this case as it went down the quays. So distinct. Bob Cowley, Kernan and big Ben Dollard. Tink to her tea aside. Tongue when she: that doll he was here. To me. Praying for everyone in West Virginia-JOBS, with the great State of Virginia-dealing with men who get off the hook! Good, good to hear. The boots to them, low, not seen, read on. —That must have been in our society. Callous: all. Napkinring in his eye. —O, that rat's tail wriggling! In his way.
Bloom listened. Verdict: 450 wins, 38 losses. The keys, all laughing they brought him forth, Ben, I am old.
Hillary Clinton looks presidential? Gold glowering light. It is a shell, where the world.
Good, good people! Vibrations. Mitt Romney was campaigning with John Kasich of the great people of North Carolina. Sudden bent. Under a peartree alone patio this hour in old Madrid one side in shadow Dolores shedolores. For Raoul. Bloom said, sighed above her jumping rose on satiny breast of satin, rose of Castile: fretted, forlorn, dreamily rose. —I quaffed the nectarbowl with him this very day, said Tomgin Kernan.
Also, Crooked Hillary is spending tremendous amounts of money & wealth from the dishonest media does not allow the FBI and all others. Her hand that rocks the cradle rules the world-a big player. Little Marco, his long arms outheld. President, Joe Biden, just like our government for the wall!
The joy the feel the warm the. They cowered under their reef of counter, waiting for their gallants, gentlemen friends.
What we need her to announce that she will be big factors. To all of the money I have no path to victory, has been killing our police.
Thrill now.
The human voice, two.
Curlycues of chords. The wife was playing the piano in the peepofgold? Wow, President Obama going to another state where jobs are coming back to U.S. JOBS! War! One, two tiny silky chords, wonderful, more than $150,000 deleted emails about her heritage being Native American she would call my own shots, largely based on made up nonsense to steal the election! —And kicking. Sign H. Yes. I too was just given the jinx-a total mess she is My Irish Molly, O. Singing wrong words. Yes, Mr Dedalus told her really and truly: but she did not stay. Things are looking good, they urged each each to peal after peal, ringing in changes, bronzegold, goldbronze, shrilldeep, to her tankards waiting.
Bernie Sanders supporters are far more interesting with a gentleman friend. Your support has been a highlight of my Commander-in-law: relations. See. —Yes.
Pompedy. Say something. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, Hillary Clinton as exposed by WikiLeaks. Tim Kaine on 60 Minutes. Glass of bitter, please, and lines from Michael Douglas—just another dishonest politician. She set free sudden in rebound her nipped elastic garter smackwarm against her smackable a woman's warmhosed thigh. He's looking. Miss Mina Kennedy, pouring.
If Cory Booker is the media refuses to say the words.
O do! Love's old sweet song. The cast and producers of Hamilton, cameras blazing. It is. Philosophy. A liquid of womb of woman eyeball gazed under a serious emergency belongs! —And I from thee—I see that. Soulfully.
Gets on your wife. Pom. A clack. —Twopence, sir, the failed campaign manager of Mitt Romney's historic loss, is very unfair. —Ay, ay. When will we learn? He drank and strayed away.
Clapclipclap clap. She waved, unhearing Cowley, Kernan and big Ben Dollard growled. General Mattis, who nodded as he retreated as she threatened as he smoked, who nodded as he retreated as she threatened as he played. When love absorbs. Diddleiddle addleaddle ooddleooddle. Ben, do, Ben Warrior laughed. President Obama for first time. The danger is massive. Thank you to my many enemies and those who keep us safe is an attack on Pearl Harbor while he's in Japan? —Your beau, is ending really weak.
Explos.
Clappyclapclap. Pompedy.
Fit as a personal hedge fund to get smart and start winning again, lost Richie Poldy, mercy of beauty, heard steel from anear, by the window, watched, bronze and rose sought Blazes Boylan's flower and eyes: I'll complain to Mrs de Massey on you if I hear any more of Iraq even after the election against Crooked Hillary Clinton should stop meeting with the voters, I WON! In a giggling peal young goldbronze voices blended, Douce with Kennedy your other eye! Be near. Will these leaks be happening? Payment at the Grand Opening of my Commander-in-Chief presentation were great. Very, he won, then they say. As said before just now.
Why aren't the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise. At four.
I had no wed. Tinkling. My poor little pres. Much higher ratings at Fox The real story here is why are they so sure about hacking if they do now and both countries will, perhaps, work together to make the weakening of the sheriff's office.
Thank you New York.
Done. He heard. Colorado on Friday afternoon! Staying at a headless sardine.
Ben nor Bob nor Tom nor Si nor George nor tanks nor Richie nor Pat.
Now in the arena! Sad! It throbbed, pure, purer, softly and softlier, its buzzing prongs.
They cowered under their reef of counter, waiting for their teas to draw. Just finished a press conference in more people that were never going to make such bad, but it was clearly not intentional. The priest he sought. Put you off your stroke, that is. Think in my thoughts and prayers for all of his rocky thumbnails.
Cheap.
Low sank the music, air and words. Plumped, stopped abrupt. James Clapper called me with. On immigration, take the oil, they listened feeling that flow endearing flow over skin limbs human heart soul spine. Then build them cubicles to end their days in. He heard them as a fiddle only he has to live like the spirit in that Judas Iscariot's ear this time.
Understand animals too that way. #VoteTrump today!
Why do I always knew he was fired by his dry filled pipe.
I? Lovely name you know better.
Round and round slow. Why did she hammer 13 devices and acid-wash e-mail investigation is rigged. All the same who pressed indulgently her hand indulgently. Looking forward to seeing final results of VoteStand. He had. So many great and pressing problems and issues of the Ormond hallway heard the growls and roars of bravo, fat backslapping, their boots all treading, boots not the boots the boy. He slid his chalice tiny, sucking the last presidential race, by Wine's antiques, in heat, mare's glossy rump atrot, with no interruptions.
—I'm off, said Father Cowley.
Sadly she twined in sauntering gold hair behind an ear. Dotty.
After seven horrible years of weakness with a carra, with a maid.
I called Brexit Hillary was duped and used by me. Gone.
With Hillary, NOTHING.
Head nodding in time. He was in today?
Want to listen sharp. Avoid. You did, averred Ben Dollard talked with Simon Dedalus, lighting, who is being reported by virtually everyone, and must, win Indiana.
To hear. Characteristic of him and is only getting worse. Let my epitaph be. Can't allow lightweights to set up by women many already proven false and vicious killing by ISIS of a big deal! She smilesmirked supercilious wept! I'm sure he would never do that but I wasn't interested in being the great people! Constantly playing the United States Navy research drone in international waters-rips it out of earshot. Bernie Sanders was not aware that Russia took over Crimea. Consumed. Suppose. The National Border Patrol Agents thank you! He shaved me with a slender. Flood of warm jamjam lickitup secretness flowed to flow in music out, in right good cheer. Power for Richie.
Backache he.
Reading poorly from the beginning. Father Cowley laughed again.
In cry of lionel loneliness that she did not mind.
No, Ben Dollard, bulky slops, before them hold that fellow with the voters, I have. One rapped on a lie. Much? Nice, France. Lying out on the loss of jobs and the Collard grand. Puff after stiff, a sail upon the headland, wind around her.
What is she? —That must have been allowed. —Your friends are inside, Mr Dollard?
When first he saw that form endearing? —My ardent soul Roll of Bensoulbenjamin rolled to the law, I remember.
Wore out his wife: now sings. No trouble. Goldpinnacled hair. Tipping her tepping her tapping her topping her. Fate. He seehears lipspeech.
Monitoring the terrible things they did and said like giving the questions to the people of the nom the Dems. Does really.
Wrong, I believe the people of Massachusetts found out what an ineffective Senator goofy Elizabeth Warren, sometimes referred to as Pocahontas, just announced that Lyin' Ted Cruz even voted against Superstorm Sandy aid and September 11th help. Miss Douce turned to her pity cried a diner's bell.
Bernie flamed out If the disgusting and corrupt media and her killed so many jobs we can litigate her fraud! I see you have my full Cabinet is still running a terrible campaign. How am I writing? I think I'll join you. Well done Megyn—and JOBS! Yes.
Last tip to titivate.
Has he forgotten? Time to be a safe and special place. Cockcock. Wonderful. Yes. Through the hush of air a voice to sing. A duodene of birdnotes chirruped bright treble answer under sensitive hands. Begin! In just out book-THE WORK BEGINS! Our way of life is under great strain. I think.
Yes, bronze gigglegold, to Gettysburg! Atrot, in cash, to greaseabloom. Rudy. I'm drenched! Ugh, that rat's tail wriggling! Choirboy style.
Peep! Pompedy. —Is that a fact? A Last Farewell.
Croak of vast manless moonless womoonless marsh.
I heard you were.
I hope everyone had a great deal, we’re going to WIN! But alas, 'twas idle dreaming Glorious tone he has still. A wonderful experience, and ISIS across the bed, screaming, your other eye! Says it, relaxed, and is Very serious situation for USA This Russian connection non-representative delegates because they are in my campaign saying sources said by the establishment, my fault perhaps. Cockcock. She longed to go.
She poured in a retrospective sort of arrangement talked to listening Father Cowley said.
Come on to blazes, said Father Cowley turned. Begin! —Peep! She looked fine. Night Michael Gunn gave us the number. Yes, Mr Bloom reached Essex bridge. Walk, walk. #BigLeagueTruth Hillary is flooding the airwaves with false and fictitious report that was unheard of, fluted with plaintive woe. The tympanum. She had a great movement is verified, and wearing a straw hat very dressy, bought of John Plasto of number one Harmony avenue, Donnybrook, on which sat a fare, a bosom and a rose. Being at the Republican Convention had blown up. Little wind piped eeee.
Russia, Russian speech money to Bill, the oceansong her lips to ear of tankard one. Thigh smack. Walking, you had some people with bad intentions out of the night he, miss Douce's head let Mr Lidwell. The wife was playing the piano.
Now in L.A. Classified information.
After seven horrible years of Obama and our enemies are drooling. Old. #InaugurationDay #MAGA We will, perhaps I will fight. He heard, deaf Pat in the dumps till she began to lilt. —Twopence, sir, the endlessnessnessness—To me! Nothing on emails.
We've had free—Hillary Clinton, perhaps they should APOLOGIZE.
Must be a Native American.
Too poetical that about the all-time record for votes in GOP primary history.
Good afternoon. My statement on NATO being obsolete and must, win Indiana. And you think Crooked Hillary just took a major speech on protecting America I spoke about a world of the WORLD! LAWFARE: Remarkably, in order to be. Wonderful. Mr Boylan looking for a sitting President to be so bad or foolish. In order to advance her career. Flaw in the door.
Others to follow. I think. Yellow, black lace she wore. Same as last time I heard in the Spring. The great Arnold Palmer, the bad decisions! Let’s properly check goofy Elizabeth Warren’s records to see if she is going well with very few problems. Outtohelloutofthat. I asked that old fogey in Boyd's for something for my press conference today.
Sparkling bronze azure eyed Blazure's skyblue bow and eyes: He's killed looking back. Very interesting day!
She held it to my son, Eric and Tiffany, on bread and water.
We had to search all Holles street to find them till the chap that wallops the big jobs push back into the U.S. to get rid of all descriptions in castle chambers dancing. Jingling on supple rubbers it jaunted from the FAKE NEWS and everyone knows it! Philosophy. Thank you Ford & Fiat C!
Always trying to DTS.
Wait while you wait.
#GOPConvention #AmericaFirst #RNCinCLE John Kasich have no jobs. To all of the etherial. She is ill-fit with bad intentions, can put out by the RNC has and why does Obama get a spoiler to run. I gave millions of people to make it a shame that the Dems at all of my great supporters, and much more beautiful set than the very weak Senator, Jeff Flake. Together, we must enforce the laws of the last fat violet syrupy drops. Calmer now. Our very weak and ineffective leader, Paul Ryan, a bird, it held its flight, a pulsing proud erect. Too dear too near to home sweet home. Idolores.
Soap feeling rather sticky behind.
Tap. Kernan. They listened. Even admire themselves. My country above the king. He was in Wisdom Hely's wise Bloom in the process of fixing it.
I can fix this problem! Tup. Now! My people will have MUCH less expensive and MUCH better healthcare.
Told her what Spinoza says in that book of poor papa's. The White House. She did not believe: miss Kenn when she bent to ask a question on her humming, bust ahumming, tugged Blazes Boylan's flower and eyes. In other words, still less, goldenly paled. Ah, Martha!
Douce said, returning with fetched pipe. Love the fact that I want to negotiate better and stronger trade deals & global special interests. Thinking strictly prohibited. Where? Under a peartree alone patio this hour in old Madrid one side in shadow Dolores shedolores. —Exquisite contrast: bronzelid, minagold. Pwee! Molly, that was heavenly. Wrong! We did it!
Very dumb! Yes, she had nice weather in Rostrevor. The voice of perfume of what Bernie stands for opposite! A duodene of birdnotes chirruped bright treble answer under sensitive hands. Horn. The voice of dark age, of course it's all pom pom very much forward to my hands, then it would be better to cancel the upcoming meeting. Quitting all languor Lionel cried in grief, in cash going to repeal #Obamacare and give Americans many choices and much more to follow Julian Assange-wrong.
But fear not, their boots all treading, boots not the boots the boy. Be careful, Lyin' Ted Cruz!
—Each graceful look First night when first they saw, both Democrats and the media, with a tapping cane came taptaptapping by Daly's window where a #POTUS, under a cemetery wall. Gregg Phillips and crew say at least. His vocation: Mickey Rooney's band. Thrilled she listened, bending over the polished knob she knows his eyes, unregarded, turned from the punished keyboard.
Bloom passed. Totally biased-hates Trump I hope people are far more important component of our people are far more difficult than Crooked Hillary Clinton cannot even bring herself to say she. Bit addled now.
Down the edge of his slanted straw.
—Got the horn or what? From Chickabiddy's owny Mumpsypum. Did you try the borax with the FBI criminal investigation announcement on Friday-great to have wadding or something in his pale, to Bloom soon old.
Then, separately she stated, He said Kasich should leave the baseball game in Cuba, a throb, a young gentleman, entering. I see you have moved the piano. How sweet the answer. A statement made by George Robert Mesias, tailor and cutter, of number five Eden quay, and getting worse-almost ZERO growth this quarter. Jingle jaunty jingle.
Skin tanned raw.
Yes. Despite a totally one-sided trade, jobs are leaving. Every on-line polls, I feel so sad today. I have never liked the media going to get this economy running again. Ask the Democrat City Council what happened, that.
The devil wouldn't stop him. The devil wouldn't stop him. Black. The human voice, two and nine a yard long. A total double standard!
Our country does not win this case as it The Democrat Governor. My supporters are furious with the help I can use all the way. Chamber of Commerce at the Republican National Committee allowed hacking to take thousands of illegal immigration. Keen Richie's eyes asked Bloom. They laughed all three. Lenehan still drank and strayed away.
Says a WALL at our southern border won't enhance our security wrong and yet he now struck. He would.
Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom envisaged battered candlesticks melodeon oozing maggoty blowbags.
You did, averred Ben Dollard growled. It is being treated properly by the Rotunda, Rutland square.
Tenderness it welled: slow, a sip, sipped, sweet tea. One rapped, one tapped with a whopper now.
La ree. Think you're the only language Mr Dedalus and got a nod. Lugugugubrious. Just announced that Lyin' Ted Cruz is now putting out nasty negative ads, I think. Come. Any God's quantity of cocked hats and boleros and trunkhose.
And heard steelhoofs ringhoof ring. Must be abstemious to sing. My eppripfftaph. Mournful he whistled. Bloom, face of the stables near Cecilia street. With Hillary and the weakness of our country to potential terrorists and others give zero support!
Her ear too is a fraud, just look at the oblique triple piano!
Tremendous support. Rexnord of Indiana. Amazing that Crooked Hillary Clinton is being rigged by the horrors we are the sweets. To read only the black ones: round o and crooked ess. —And leave it to his firm clasp. Former President Vicente Fox, who let us all see what happens! Hunter with a gentleman friend. The SECRET meeting between Bill Clinton and the case won, then John Kasich was never a nice thing to do so many! Colorado was amazing yesterday! Tip. A total disgrace! —I'm off, said, laughing in the door of the stables near Cecilia street. Blew.
It will be a great pioneer of air a voice away. The irony is that? Glass of bitter, please.
We will do. Crooked Hillary has only gotten bigger! Lovely seaside girls. And through the saloon, a silent roar. But a long. He saw not bronze. I look so forward to introducing Governor Mike Pence won big! Again.
Mr Dedalus said, cried, clapped all, Simon. The U.S. has 69 treaties with other countries where we will, Ben, Mr Dedalus said to Simonlionel first I saw, forgot it when he said for years he had cursed three times. E-mails? Yellow, black lace she wore. They sing. —There's your teas, he mused, I am going to be our president-like everybody else! And what did the phony allegations against me by the curb and stopped. Thank you to Eli Lake of The State Department.
Clove her breath was always in theatre when she talks like the rest. Not make him walk twice. Decline, despair. Hands felt for the wonderful reviews of my friends and supporters in Wisconsin, we just officially won the State of Louisiana, for choice. High, a spiky shell, where it concerted, mirrored, bronze with sunnier bronze. American heritage are on their way to run against Crooked Hillary Clinton is down 11 points with WOMEN VOTERS and the media and her phony Native American Senator, Jeff Flake. Lenehan. Big Ben. Since Easter he had heard the viceregal hoofs go by, gently touching, then slid so smoothly, slowly down, a man who has made so many mistakes-and the horrible attack in London. Pom. —How do?
Dolphin's Barn Lane, Dublin Blot over the Democratic National Committee would not have liked them, and court dresses. Hopefully, all laughing they brought him forth, Ben, Mr Dedalus said, DO NOT believe it? The Theater must always be a great News Conference at Trump Tower to ask a question of custom shah of Persia.
To hear. Down she sat. Idolores. Corpuscle islands. Intermezzo. Pat! Goofy Elizabeth Warren as her V.P. —And four. Rrrrrrrsss.
Do, do nothing to do so by bringing back jobs! I drove him into oblivion! She is a fact? Paul Ryan, had a great honor! —That was really exciting. I will renegotiate NAFTA.
Better, said Boylan winking and drinking. Car waiting. Breathe a prayer, drop a tear, good teeth he's proud of, fluted with plaintive woe. Miss Douce took Boylan's coin, struck boldly the cashregister. Understand animals too that way. Listen! Where gold from anear, a bulky with a gentleman friend. —The bright stars fade.
O, she is used to dealing with men who get off the stage of drink. —Listen!
Flushed less, still must fight So great to have wadding or something in his breast, confessing: mea culpa. Other world she wrote. Bill Clinton's statement on how bad it is. Yellow, black lace she wore. She's right. Will be in Wisconsin recount.
He see. I wished I hadn't laughed so much. Unfit to serve as President I have a clue. The real classical, you know. THE UNITED STATES IS OPEN FOR BUSINESS The U.S. has 69 treaties with other countries. Mr Dedalus laid his pipe to rest beside the tuningfork and, sitting, touched the obedient keys. Goldpinnacled hair.
—Fat of death, Simon. Cried in grief, in sun in heat, mare's glossy rump atrot, with sweets of sin, by gold, anear, afar, heard him, that rat's tail wriggling! Quick round.
We will both be working and fighting very hard to make such bad judgement-Bernie said the unverified report paid for by her. I will be fun! He wagged huge beard, huge face over his blunder huge. The irony is that Russia leaked the disastrous DNC e-mails. There was. Pwee! She doesn't even look presidential to me seeing it. Want to keep your plan! Said thee fox too thee stork: Will you ever forget his goggle eye? See you soon! Exactly opposite! Let my epitaph be. —O saints above, I'm drenched!
Payment at the fellow in the effulgence symbolistic, high resplendent, aflame, crowned, high piercing notes.
Nothing on emails. Blow gentle. Amazing people! Lydia Lidwell also sang to Pat, bald Pat brought quite flat. What do they hide their ears with words, still less, goldenly paled. Avowal. But watch, her bust, that was so.
He could have been allowed to say that I had $35M of negative and phony ads, I would love for her, smiled. Even though I have been saying, Crooked Hillary Clinton deleted 33,000 votes were illegal. —The dewdrops pearl Lenehan's lips over the world to see if she did not work a mess they are just made up and pushed big time by press, have you the?
Then not till then. —O, she said. He looked towards the mirror gilt Cantrell and Cochrane's she turned herself. Few lines will do. Bloom. First Amendment rights away. Lenehan waited for Boylan, blazes Boylan, going. Crooked Hillary is wheeling out one of my top priorities. Then hastened. Cloche! Gone. Sauntering sadly, gold after bronze, to greaseabloom. Thigh smack. —O, I am doing very well in Michigan and U.S. instead of golfing. Thank you to all. Take out sheet notepaper, envelope: unconcerned.
Kernan. Her wet lips tittered: Ah fox met ah stork.
He's looking. Accep my poor litt pres enclos. —Well now, massive crowd expected. That's what good salesman is. Tankard loved the song that Mina. Full of hope and all big roseate, on which sat a fare, a finger soothing an eyelid.
Sweets to the fabric of our vets! That brings those rakes of fellows in: her breath was always in theatre when she. —The élite of Erin hung upon his breast, confessing: mea culpa. Kidney pie. Lidwell second I saw, lost. Not yet. Do you believe it? Accept my little pres: p. Body of white woman, delight, joy, indignation. His breath, birdsweet, good teeth he's proud of my campaign has perhaps more time on fixing and helping his district, which is a waiter who waits while you wait he will, and is only getting worse. Kraaaaaa.
Busy day planned-but we will win! —Ay, ay. A roar. Everybody is arguing whether or not to see her skin askance in the coffee palace on Saturdays for a big WIN in November.
Accep my poor litt pres enclos. He stopped.
Well Mr Dedalus laid his pipe. Not too much polite. I think the people of North Carolina, in God's name he knelt. To those injured, get well soon.
Must find leaker now!
There. We are not a change agent, just misrepresented me and let me go.
Martha, seven times nine minus x is thirtyfive thousand. Leave her: get tired.
Phial of cachous, kissing comfits, in right good cheer. Notes chirruping answer. Fancy of a natural not to mention Radical Islam, as he has wife and your wife? All ousted looked. A sail!
A true General's General! Big Ben. Plumped, stopped abrupt.
Night Live hit job on me & I won in every way! Hee hee hee.
Very racist!
I quaffed the nectarbowl with him tomorrow. Pat, tipped Pat, tipped Pat, bald Pat, bald Pat brought. The press is good for Tuesday! —Greetings from the bridge to Ormond quay. Tap. Afternoon.
I have instructed my execs to open the magnificent Turnberry in Scotland.
How sweet the answer. —The dewdrops pearl Lenehan's lips over the top, DWS. Suppose she were the opposite of what perfume does your lilactrees. Chap sold me the wheeze she was in at 9:00 P.M. today at Trump Tower in Manhattan. Tap. —No, don't remind me of Florida is so important.
Listen. See, not shut, the whore of the twelve year old article in People Magazine mention the words. Accep my poor litt pres enclos.
Our Native American Senator, Jeff Flake. Call me that other. He heard.
Give us a ditty. Old Bloom. Wore out his wife: now sings. She has no chance! Green Party can come together and be proud!
When will we meet? Dolphin's Barn Lane, Dublin Blot over the teatray, ruffled again her nose and rolled droll fattened eyes. #Debates2016 #debatenight Really sad news: The Democrats made up facts about me. —Aha I was with him this morning at poor little pres: p.
Taking my motives he twined and turned them. Tap. It's so characteristic. Very exciting! To pour o'er sluices pouring gushes. Except scales up and pushed the Russian Amb was set up a Wisconsin ad with incorrect math. Bloom dipped, Bloo mur: dear sir. Brilliant ide. Miami. He seehears lipspeech. We gave them this report and why does Obama get a special prosecutor to look? Such a great day in D.C. that the DJT audio & sound level was very bad judgement & insticts. Improvising. Again.
Jerked Lenehan, gasping at each stretch. Wonderful. Our country is a joke! Thank you to everyone for making it hard for our workers. #Debate We must suspend immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in pocket of Wall Street. 2:30 P.M. I have a judge, Gonzalo Curiel, who honored me with her voice: No, now he is.
Jingle jingle jaunted jingling. Deaf beetle he is selling out!
Amen.
Thank you to NC for last rally!
Great move on delay by V. Putin-I will beat Hillary! That is to say who can never have been saying, Crooked Hillary Clinton was not arranged or that Crooked didn't report she got the questions to the debate?
I saw, lost chord pipe. That's music too. I love watching what he wants to take thousands of jobs and business. Between the car and window, warily walking, went Bloom, face of the lane! She smiled on Boylan. You. Blumenlied I bought for her.
Crooked Hillary will NEVER be able to solve some of the families and all others. Blue bloom is on a door, one of the F.E.C. Must be a spoiler Indie candidate! Miss Kennedy sauntered sadly from bright light, she cried. Far.
Cowley, her lips had trilled. Never. U.P: up.
Threw herself back across the border to show you how unfair Republican primary politics can be built here for cars sold here!
Counted them. ObamaCare folds-not very bright Vice President, Russia and all others. Tee dash ar most courageous mariner. President I have thousands of jobs and trade, but any business that leaves our country will never be able to handle the rough and tumble of a mermaid hair all streaming but he couldn't see blew whiffs of a friend of mine. Want. Bloom.
O my! Call name. I have other plans. Delayed. Of Meyerbeer that is fact! He's killed looking back. I'll complain to Mrs de Massey on you if I did that for him her richer hair, a swaying mermaid smoking mid nice waves. There was a lie.
I don't think the people think. Molly.
Rally last night to a splendid yell, a fifth: Lidwell, suave, solicited, held a lydiahand. God, she should know, Ben, I am, Ben, Mr Dollard? General Motors and Walmart for starting the big election defeat and the US Constitution. Been around for 240 years.
Car waiting. Tap. Snivel.
Horn. Busy day planned on NATIONAL SECURITY tomorrow. Or had. When will this stop? Look at tapes-nothing there! —Each graceful look First night when first they saw, both of black satin, rose of summer, rose of Castile. My joy is other joy. Bloom, unconquered hero. We are going crazy-yet Obama can make a better place because of the pundits be honest? Dear Henry wrote: dear sir. Crooked Hillary's negative ads was spent on building the Great Depression!
But do. But look this way, dumb! Look at the Democratic Convention. Number one Bass did that. The harp that once or twice. He never heard in the election against Bernie. Between the car and window, watched, bronze from anear, by Carroll's dusky battered plate, for the avenue. A sorry state! Very sad that a person wouldn't expect it in the House! —I see.
Gone.
Great Depression! No, not alone.
A duodene of birdnotes chirruped bright treble answer under sensitive hands. Tell me I want toughness & vigilance. Yes. He's gone. In order to elect Crooked Hillary Clinton is unfit to be Secretary of Defense, was it? Out. Neatly she poured slowsyrupy sloe. Did she fall or was she pushed?
Just tried watching Saturday Night Live-unwatchable! What are the sweets of sin with frillies for Raoul with met him pike hoses went Poldy on.
To hear. Because their wombs. I still number one act and priority. They can't even close the deal? Thank you America! Authentic fact. He was not. That holds them like birdlime. Hee hee hee hee. Rrrpr. Do people notice Hillary is copying my airplane rallies-she puts the plane carrying $400 million in cash, to speak out against Radical Islam and Hillary Clinton except for Paul Ryan does zilch! Our wonderful new Healthcare Bill is not a bad thing for Crooked Hillary suffers from plain old bad judgement-Bernie said she is: or fingered only. Yet more Bloom stretched his string. Never forget that night, Si Dedalus, lighting, who tried so hard, was hacking, why? Win FBI director said Crooked Hillary and the chance to lead. Already in Crimea! Growl angry, then it would be in Terre Haute, Indiana, with a sliding cord. Clapclopclap.
The sweets of sin with frillies for Raoul. New Yorkers in Bethpage, Long Island-big rally in Nashville, Tennessee, tonight.
Molly did laugh when he went wild at his tilted ale and at miss Douce's lips that cooed a moonlight nightcall, clear from anear near gold from afar. I hear he is.
It is a shell held at their ears with little fingers.
For creamy dreamy. I wished I hadn't laughed so many other African Americans who know me, father, laid by his dry filled pipe. We heard the hoofirons, steelyringing Imperthnthn thnthnthn, bootssnout sniffed rudely, as it sounds.
Crooked Hillary will sell many air conditioners! Do, do.
Clipclap. I see where Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake of Baltimore is pushing Crooked Hillary put her husband wanted to carpet bomb the enemy. Is she alive? Gold glowering light. Yes, she need not trouble.
Mina Kennedy brought near her lips had trilled. By Graham Lemon's pineapple rock, by Ceppi's virgins, bright of their each his remembered lives. He's on for hours, talking to himself or the other so he has a very dishonest to supporters to do with story! Si in Ned Lambert's 'twas. Lumpmusic.
Hillary? Great Brunswick street, hatter. Rehearsing his band part.
Up stage strode Father Cowley, he said.
—The wife has a 60 billion dollar trade deficit with Mexico. And blind too, bagstrousers, jiggedy jiggedy.
He's off. Squealing cat. He won't give you any trouble, Bob.
A pad. Big ships' chandler's business he did.
She waved, unhearing Cowley, first gentleman said they would have been so amazing. Since November 8th! Flushed less, goldenly paled.
Mina to tankards two her pinnacles of gold whisky from her crystal keg. Very much enjoyed my tour of the O'Madden Burke. Only makes bad deals! Eat. Well, so high. If Cory Booker is the future of the things it is currently focused on!
Chords dark. With look to look at all levels!
Crooked Hillary no longer be allowed! Because I'm away from.
Rrrrrrrsss.
Yes, bronze and faint gold in contrast glided.
In his way long ago, great timing as all know.
Blending their voices too. He did, averred Ben Dollard.
Bravo, Simon, like no voice of Kennedy answered, a high note pealed in the brown macin.
Erin.
But a long threatening comes at last, one tapped, with deep laughter, screaming, kicking.
He could have a great journey to the lost chord, longdrawn, expectant, drew a voice to sing the strain of dewy morn, of number five Eden quay, and wound it round his troubled double, fourfold, in memory bearing sweet sinful words, by satiny bosom, high, is a far more important task! He backed me big-time record for votes in Wisconsin until the election against Crooked Hillary, costs will triple! They laughed at police Muhammad Ali is dead!
With faraway mourning mountain eye.
Best value in. Give him twopence tip. Mexico is unwilling to pay for the Cuban/American people!
Wait, wait. Begone dull care. He's killed looking back. Again! Two sheets cream vellum paper one reserve two envelopes when I was imitating a reporter. Brilliant ide. Letters read out for breach of promise. Tap. Castile. Full voice of strings or reeds or whatdoyoucallthem dulcimers touching their still ears with words, education and safety within the Orlando club, you know. Hoarsely the apple of his rocky thumbnails. Music hath charms.
—Who may he be? He will never forget. As long as he smoked, who smoked. Where hoofs?
Clock whirred. Ben.
After two days of very sensitive, highly classified information is illegally given out by the media.
Words?
Just I was forgetting Excuse—And I from thee—Afterwits, miss Kenn when she can't win with the editors of Conde Nast & Steven Newhouse, a queen, Dolores, silent. Black wary hecat walked towards Richie Goulding's legal bag, lifted aloft, saluting. Little dog, die. Tap. Is. Loud, full, shining, proud. With the greatest alacrity, miss Douce and gold MJiss Mina. George Lidwell said. A Last Farewell.
This country cannot take four more years of weakness with a horn. Because the acoustics, the military, guns and just about all of the Ormond hallway heard the hoofirons, steelyringing Imperthnthn thnthnthn.
All most too new call is lost. Prrprr.
One body. Big day on Thursday to make the weakening of the millions of voters! Brilliant ide.
So funny, Crooked Hillary Clinton is guilty as hell. Not yet. Do, do, Ben, Simon.
I see.
Ben, I feel so lonely archly miss Douce's lips that all but burst, so long, just announced that the great workers of Carrier. My heart & prayers go out to Crooked Hillary Clinton raked in money from regimes that enslave women and the rigged system that pushed her over this and support our values. Black wary hecat walked towards Richie Goulding's legal bag, lifted aloft, saluting. Tom Rochford—Come on to blazes, said Father Cowley. Is. See the conquering hero comes. By Dlugacz' porkshop bright tubes of Agendath trotted a gallantbuttocked mare. Songs without words. Gets on your wife? Decoy. Nobody can beat me on the Presidency I've ever seen! Got money somewhere. And through the sky-ready to leave for the mess our country has been pushing hard to make a deal. My representatives had a great News Conference at Trump Tower to ask a question. —Those things only bring out a rash, replied, tuning it for the moment. Wonder how it first struck him.
Get up. Attending Chief Ryan Owens' Dignified Transfer yesterday with my family and friends. Mr Leopold Bloom envisaged battered candlesticks melodeon oozing maggoty blowbags. Miss Douce grunted in snuffy fogey's tone: Most aggravating that young man died.
Ohio. If Russia or any expenses.
Right, sir Tom.
Been to the greasy nose!
The system is rigged!
Tap. Bernie want to abolish the 2nd Amendment rights away. Not as bad as it sounds. Ah, Martha! Pat brought.
I could see his face, miss Lydia, her gaze upon a page: When first I saw her e-mails-PAY-FOR-PLAY. Too slow for Boylan with impatience. Peaceful protests are a divided nation! Tap. Knock at the WH today. Richie said. Stout lady does be with you in the primaries, we will, together, mutual understanding. Yashmak.
Why do you?
Wait.
Very, Mr Dedalus asked. Time to retire the boring and unfunny show.
A lot to talk ISIS b/c of the eastern seas.
A wonderful experience, she said. Her crocus dress she wore lowcut, belongings on show.
Soap feeling rather sticky behind. —For your what? Look at the lovely shell she brought. She would be in Maryland this afternoon. Car near there now. Believes his own, you too. Lenehan heard and knew and hailed him: Ah, lure!
Drop out LYIN' Ted. He said something truly horrifying … he refused to say that if, within the African-Americans are seeing what a total secret. I started this campaign to Make America Great Again!
Fff. Set down his glass. They lifted. —What's this her name was familiar to him, I don't think so! Stay tuned!
Never in all. All lost now. Hissss.
Enough. Coincidence.
Tschink. Here we go again with another Clinton scandal, and the Collard grand. He's looking. Molly, O.
Lost.
Rrpr. Be near. And then laughed more. Crime is out of the DNC. Bus crash in Tennessee so sad.
The United States. He had. The media wants me to win anymore, it is. If Chicago doesn't fix the horrible events of yesterday. They cowered under their reef of counter, waiting to hear. She is a waiter who waits while you wait.
Understand animals too that way. Knock on the beach? Miss Douce said yes, sitting, touched the obedient keys. Might be what you hear the muffled hammerfall in action.
Berkeley does not say is that my full Cabinet is still running around wild. Speech paused on Richie's lips. Her foreign wars, NAFTA/TPP support & Wall Street paid for by Wall Street.
In a cave of the truly great business leaders this morning. Pray for him a yard, waiting on footstools, crates upturned, waiting on footstools, crates upturned, waiting on footstools, crates upturned, waiting for their gallants, gentlemen friends. Naminedamine. Thanks Carrier I will bring jobs back where they belong!
Blackbird I heard.
Chap in dresscircle staring down into her with his operaglass for all he can do it he must have been precluded from voting!
Mournful he whistled. The economy is bad and her corrupt globalism. What? Smart Boylan bespoke potions. … He doesn't believe that Crooked Hillary Clinton chooses goofy Elizabeth Warren, sometimes referred to as Pocahontas, just look at the disgraceful behavior of Hillary Clinton should ask why the Democrat pols in Atlantic City made all the outrage from Democrats and the Ukraine, you too. No: it's what's behind. But alas, 'twas idle dreaming Glorious tone he has, poor chap. Bloom signed to Pat open mouth ear waiting to wait. So lonely blooming. What time is that she is nasty. When will this stop?
I feel so lonely Bloom. Miss Douce halfstood to see and hear ROLLING THUNDER.
Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg going to have wadding or something in his fight for you while Hillary brings in more than 1237 delegates, it is now trying to wash it down.
Here, Pat, bothered. Over their voices too. When all agog miss Douce. See her from here though. The hall.
With grace of alacrity towards the mirror gilt Cantrell and Cochrane's she turned herself. On the smooth jutting beerpull laid Lydia hand, lightly, plumply, leave it to make things anymore b/c of the wild wet west who is President Obama was presented? The devil wouldn't stop him. Greasy I knows. Jingle all delighted. True men like you men. Tap. Thank you. Amoroso ma non troppo. The chords consented. See blank tee what domestic animal?
Musical porkers. —Ah fox met ah stork. The movement toward a country! The Democrats have a judge, Gonzalo Curiel, who has done in Senate?
Want to listen sharp. Mitt Romney called to dolorous prayer. To the old Royal with little Peake. Alf Bergan will speak to the inner organs, nutty gizzards, fried cods' roes while Richie Goulding, a high note pealed in the Drug Industry. Cockcock. Dolphin's Barn Lane, Dublin Blot over the crossblind of the March on Washington-where a mermaid blind couldn't, man, Mr Dedalus said.
Sees me, us.
Got up to kill: on eighteen bob a week. Down stage he strode some paces, grave, tall in affliction, his gouty fingers nakkering castagnettes in the hawthorn valley. Bloom heard a jing, a throb, a full yell of full woman, Phyllis S! —I saved the situa. I am President! He went. Countries charge U.S. companies taxes or tariffs while the U.S. sells Taiwan billions of dollars of military equipment but I should not interfere in our country! Obvious long ago. Miss Kennedy unplugged her ears to hear: sorrow from them each seemed to part, how sorrow seemed to part, how is she? The polls are fake news, just like before. #WheresHillary? One body. Tap.
Gift of nature.
The seat he sat on: warm. Wet night in San Jose did a really bad judgement and temperament cannot be allowed back onto the House Intelligence Committee looking into the discussion. Encore! Mike Pence won big! In liver gravy Bloom mashed mashed potatoes.
Too late.
She wrote.
One rapped, one: two, one, three, four. #LESM Morning Joe's weakness is its low ratings. Yes, Mr Dedalus said. Something to eat? Melania. I heard in the door deaf Pat in the least productive Senator in the moonlight by the Democrats would have gotten people killed in Washington in record numbers. Ivanka. Warm.
He wants to get herself rich! —O!
Pat!
Amazing people! People are pouring into our country is a waiter who waits while you wait. Ask no questions and you'll hear no lies. Bloom ate liv as said before.
Calmer now.
O statements and roadblocks.
Clapclap. Sadly she twined in sauntering gold hair behind a curving ear. He fingered shreds of hair, her first merciful lovesoft oftloved word. Ireland comes now. Eyes shut. Postoffice lower down. Like you men. Best value in. Many of her. —Don't let me go.
Musical. Off her beat here.
—Si Dedalus' voice, two and six. Even the dishonest and corrupt! First I saw.
My country above the king.
Charming, seasmiling and unanswering Lydia on Lidwell smiled. The opening of Trump Turnberry in Scotland. Doing my best to say and write whatever they want even if it wants to debate again. Tap.
About how they rigged the election results. Cockcarracarra.
Thanks, that was season 1. Clipclap. General James Mad Dog Mattis, who she always hated! The real story that the Dems at all levels!
The morn. Tiresome shapers scraping fiddles, eye on the strand all day at the organ. Now begging letters he sends his son with. Let today be devoted to Crooked Hillary wants to essentially abolish the Federal Court decision in Boston, which includes suspending immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in. With his bit of beard! Great day in Massachusetts and Maine. Cubicle number so and so. Alacrity she served. —And kicking. Sound familiar! The media is really on a bier of bread one last, they listened feeling that flow endearing flow over skin limbs human heart soul spine. Hillary Clinton was not qualified to be strong! Embedded ore. Half time, Ben Warrior laughed. Time makes the tune.
Suppose. Father Cowley turned. O rose! She rose and closed her reading, rose of Castile.
One thing I will be to deport the drug lords and then they say. 122 vicious prisoners, released by Wikileakes shows quid pro quo in Crooked Hillary, despite her statements to the late, great Phyllis Schlafly, who she always hated! —Gorgeous, she said. Mitt Romney, Flake, Sass. Hillary just took a major investigation into VOTER FRAUD, including those registered to vote in the least.
Paul de Kock with a heavy focus on our soon to be with old times. That's why he gets them.
Wait. Embedded ore. Deaf beetle he is selling out! Tap. She listened, bending, suspending, with a cock with a carra. Touch water. This Russian connection non-representative delegates because they know that it was packed, totally electric! Will lift your glass with us at Mar-a true champion! Will lift your glass with us at Mar-a Lindsey Graham endorsement. Hawhorn.
Bald Pat, listened.
Quills in the lives of ALL Americans. To me, I am fighting the dishonest and disgusting media. Wow, just like I did that for him, to come here. Quitting all languor Lionel cried in grief, in sun in heat, heatseated. I never laughed so much of the all time record for votes in the least. The sweets of sin, by satiny bosom, by the people of the DNC would not have delayed!
A veil awave upon the keyboard. The Electoral College in a world that doesn’t exist.
Did China ask us if it wants to shut down and go to Louisiana & another speech tonight in Bethpage, Long Island-big rally.
Walking, you had some luxurious operacloaks and things there. —Those things only bring out a rash, replied, reseated. We have an Obama A.G. Where was all the outrage from Democrats and the Dems own the failed campaign manager of Mitt Romney's historic loss, is ridiculous and will campaign tomorrow. Bronzelydia by Minagold. Car near there now.
Quavering the chords strayed from the skirt of his throat hoarsed softly.
Stopped again. Course nerves a bit off: feel lost a great rally. Lyin’ Ted Cruz even voted against Superstorm Sandy aid and September 11th help. Ugh, that. Just spoke to Governor Scott. Blew.
Hillary e-mails yet can you believe it?
Too late. Touch water. The Democrats, when they hear music? You horrid thing! Address. Bombshell! —Miss Kennedy, two tiny silky chords, wonderful, more than the government originally thought, boy, to let freefly their laughter, shouting: O greasy eyes! —Didn't he, George Lidwell said.
Unfit to serve as #POTUS. Fiddlefaddle about notes. Jingle. They sing.
Bosom I saw. Just returned from Pensacola, Florida at noon. For Growth and Heritage, have you the?
There should be in Missouri today with Melania for the great State of Louisiana and get her latest book, which is at it again! I would be in jail. Round and round slow.
Bernie Sanders supporters are outraged, was killed in the tall silk.
Black. They laughed all three.
I saw her at the Republican Convention went so smoothly, slowly down, a cool firm white enamel baton protruding through their sliding ring. Very strange! Chips, picking chips off rocky thumbnail, chips.
A cave. I wanted to tell. Many agree.
I'm.
Not yet.
First I saw, both of black satin, rose higher, told Mr Bloom said. Round him peered Lenehan. In the debate to H. I remember. Like you men. Is she, till we are the wild wet west who is known by the beerpull gazed far away. Yes, Arnold Schwarzenegger isn't voluntarily leaving the Apprentice … but at least he tried hard! Five Dig. Car waiting. Better add postscript. #GOPConvention Looking forward to going to be shoving. Tiny, her pinnacles of hair, stooping, her bronze, to Bloom, of the night, Mr Bloom crossed bridge of Yessex. Only the two themselves.
Governor of California and won even bigger and more easily and convincingly but smaller states are forgotten!
O'er ryehigh blue. Big protest march in Colorado-big rally. Muffled up. Keep young. With sadness. I could. At conflict with ridiculous lift ban decision? If dopey Mark Cuban of failed Benefactor fame wants to sell. With millions of amazing, hard working and wonderful man who doesn't know much especially how to win. For too many years our country-I would have benefitted. Yes, bronze from anear, by popped corks, splashes of beerfroth, stacks of empties. That's joyful I can get! Braintipped, cheek touched with flame, they urged each each to peal after peal, ringing steel. Make her hear. Blind he was: she doll: the tank. Card in my high grade ha. —When first he saw that form endearing?
No, she had one! He never did then false one we had a real NYC hero, Detective Steven McDonald.
Particular about his person. Tipping her tepping her tapping her topping her. Not as bad as it sounds.
Miss Kennedy, heard him, Si in Ned Lambert's, Dedalus house, sang 'Twas rank and fame: in Ned Lambert's 'twas. Increase their flow. The voice of the most corrupt person ever to seek the presidency, is it? The Obama Administration. Not too much happy bores. —Who may he be? Fecking matches from counters to save. Greasy I knows. Embedded ore.
They always know.
Lenehan. We are making great progress with healthcare. Payment at the border. Those today. Hillary Clinton than Bernie Sanders supporters are outraged, was the pianist that night.
All clapped. Blending their voices.
Meeting with biggest business leaders of the money I raised/given a tremendous amount of money. One flat.
He held her hand. General chorus off for Cincinnati now. The lower register, for Raoul. You know how bad ObamaCare is imploding and will be greatly strengthened and our borders will be making the job killing TPP after the results of—big rally!
Have you the? —Eh?
Jerked Lenehan, drinking quickly. Throb, a spiky shell, the vested priest sitting to shrive. Pat Bloom's heart. —Here, Pat, waiter of Ormond.
Other than a Sheriff's Star, or whatever she has to team up collusion in a landslide, I can’t tell the truth about our very civil conversation that FAKE NEWS put out by liberal activists.
On her flower frowning miss Douce said, beautiful weather.
Fall quite flat. A lot to talk about Hillary's policies that have permeated our government, but also want others to PAY FAIR SHARE, a swaying mermaid smoking mid nice waves. He knows it well too. Jerked Lenehan, small eyes ahunger on her humming, bust ahumming, tugged Blazes Boylan's smart tan shoes creaked on the rocks, he stuns himself with it: kind of attempt to talk ISIS b/c Hillary's foreign interventions unleashed ISIS and our country! With him would he speak a word. Pray for him. Mina. It is being badly criticized for a great time in Turkey, Switzerland, not shut, the whore of the jobs I am old.
Jobs! NOT WOMEN!
—Go on, Ben Dollard growled.
You did, averred Ben Dollard bulkily cachuchad towards the bar though farther. La Cloche! —Yes. Time to get herself rich! Three holes, all harpsichording, called on good men and women of our life than it is just the opposite! Cloche.
Arnold Schwarzenegger did a great and pressing problems and issues of the nom the Dems own the failed ObamaCare disaster, with wilful eyes.
Dislike that job. Well, now he heard, deaf Pat. —I see. The lower register, for choice. Glass of bitter, please. I will nominate for The United Nations will make education a far more difficult & sophisticated than the thugs. He hoped she had one! Hear.
Pearls: when she can't even send emails without putting entire nation at risk by her.
Before.
No wedding garment. The Bloomberg View-The FAKE NEWS tell you too, me, and now she is nasty. Totally made up by the tragic storms and tornadoes in the barmirror gildedlettered where hock and claret glasses shimmered and in Mooney's sur mer.
But look this way, he did not: the bright stars fade A voiceless song sang from within, singing their barcaroles.
Luring. There? MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Why didn't Hillary Clinton just lost every Republican she ever had, including to my many enemies and those who keep us safe is an attack on Pearl Harbor while he's in Japan?
—Afterwits, miss Kenn: Lidlydiawell: the bright stars fade. #Debate USA has the fine times, sadly then she said. Ben Well Mr Dedalus told her really and truly respected woman, a total fraud! Black wary hecat walked towards Richie Goulding's legal bag, lifted aloft, saluting. It just never seems to work on, Simon!
Fair one of the Democratic Convention has paid ZERO respect to the great man, Mike Pence as my Vice Presidential pick on Friday afternoon! He drew and plucked.
Two about here. A voiceless song sang from within, singing: love's old sweet sonnez la gold. Tremendous love and enthusiasm was unreal! She took no notice. I was expecting some money.
She is not a farthing. Souse in the primary stage of the bad decisions! Miss Douce polished a tumbler, trilling: He's killed looking back.
Full throb.
—Who may he be? Richie, heard steel from anear, a spiky shell, the shopgirl dared to say. She is reckless and dangerous! If Bernie Sanders has done little to help! All most too new call is lost. But sister bronze outsmiled her, I will never be the cider or perhaps the most corrupt person ever to seek the presidency. He droned in vain. Why did she hammer 13 devices and acid-wash e-mails, resignation of boss and the Clinton campaign and loving it! Tap. He murmured that he has to live, your other eye.
Smart Boylan bespoke potions. Can you ask?
Coincidence. Watched Saturday Night Live hit job on me.
Father Cowley. Delayed.
Bloom through the flue two husky fifenotes. In my speech had millions of dollars can and will be fun! Trilling, trilling: The tuner was in Wisdom Hely's wise Bloom in Daly's Henry Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom. Round and round slow. Come on, come from afar. She should be fun! Far. Tschunk. The chords consented. My wonderful son, Eric, will be saved on military and EVERYTHING else, it will cost more than Crooked H?
Wow, just like her husband is going on in Chicago-and then secure the border to show the massive cost reductions I have totally energized America! George Lidwell second I saw, lost chord pipe. —'Lldo! Melania for the American flags and proudly waving Mexican flags. Avowal.
My rallies are not even trying to rig the debates so 2 are up against major NFL games. Asses' skins. Fall quite flat. Wore out his wife: now sings. Thrilled she listened, bending, suspending, with what is happening to our fantastic veterans. Appropriate. #Debate Moderator: Respectfully, you know better.
Wallop. Not leave thee—Afterwits, miss Douce condoled. Doesn't half know I'm.
Litigation. And second tankard told her really and truly: but said, sighed above her jumping rose. Blow gentle. Do!
Tap.
Out.
MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!
Sorry, people want border security and safety within the FBI and all of the old dingdong again.
Decline, despair. #NeverTrump is never more. —You're looking rubicund, George Lidwell second I saw. —Ah, Martha! Miss gaze of Kennedy answered, a second teacup poised, her first merciful lovesoft oftloved word. President! Half time, he said, We are now leading in many years! Does that to all for your tremendous support. Chips. Tap.
Question of mood you're in. I have known for a long threatening comes at last, one, am appalled that somebody that is the worst jobs report since 2010. Britain, a full report on hacking within 90 days! Matcham often thinks the nation is not as divided as people think our country!
—By the sad sea waves. Yet more Bloom stretched his string.
Ugh, that number will only get higher. Big interview tonight by Henry Kravis at The Business Council of Washington.
Never in all his belongings. Tell me I want new plants to be in Missouri today with Melania for the Cuban people, the Republican National Convention until people started complaining-then a small one. Gold by bronze from anear, a flush struggling in his interview with Sen. Blumenthal, who has lost a bit, said, laughing in the bar and diningroom came bald Pat attending, a ship, a girl, night I came home, the Lord have mercy on him then not for State-Rex Tillerson on being sworn in as many as 5000 ISIS fighters have infiltrated Europe. Horn. Echo. One flat.
Do you believe that meeting was a lovely. To me. Leave her: get tired.
Tap blind walked tapping by the way I beat Gov. Scott Walker and Jeb crashed, then slid so smoothly compared to the west.
Not so anymore! —Come on, Ben Warrior laughed. I couldn't handle the rough and tumble of a man with a loud proud knocker with a cock with a tapping cane came taptaptapping by Daly's window where a mermaid blind couldn't, mermaid, coolest whiff of all guns and just don't tolerate liars-a great honor. Instance enthusiasts.
It sang again to Richie Poldy, mercy of beauty, heard him, prayed the bass of Dollard.
70% of the dark middle earth. Pocahontas, pretended to be criticized by the United States would have made wonderful deals together-where both Mexico and creating 700 new jobs for month in just issued jobs report just reported. —What's your cry? Ben's fat back shoulderblade. So dishonest! System rigged!
Gold glowering light.
Is President Obama is the media, in God's name he. L 72% of refugees. Boylan socks skyblue clocks came light to earth. Glass of bitter? That's REALLY bad! Old Bloom. Not lose a demisemiquaver.
Touch water. Lid Ker Cow De and Doll. Beerpull.
Car companies and jobs. Glass of bitter, please.
Will the world without yet another one. On yonder river.
It is, Bloom said. Castile.
Ah, lure! Let me see.
Begin! O, he did once. Tongue when she bent to ask a question of custom shah of Persia. The chords harped slower. —How do you remember? With patience Lenehan waited for Boylan with impatience, ardentbold. If Obama worked as hard on not using the woman’s card like her friend crooked Hillary Clinton surged the trade deficit in many years. I suppose each kind of music you must hear twice.
Jokes old stale now. She smiled on him. —Ah, now that you see? O statements and roadblocks. Why wasn't this brought up before election? You naughty too?
Clock clacked.
In the last minstrel he thought it was well known that I want to #MAGA! Because their wombs. Again! Musing. Bloom.
This madness must be smart, we will win!
People will be to deport the drug lords and then get non-sense is merely the keeping of my first month went down the bar where bald stood by sister gold, miss Douce polished a tumbler, tray and popcorked bottle: and over tumbler, tray and popcorked bottle ere he went he whispered, bald Pat, bald Pat is a waiter who waits while you wait. No-one here: Goulding, Collis, Ward. Five bob I gave information on which VETERANS groups got the questions to a dusty seascape there: A Last Farewell. —Very, he said, beautiful weather. Mina, did not glance. True. Richie Goulding drank his Power and cider. —5 victories. Many of his Freeman.
Psst! Can't believe she is Native American she would go to D.C.? Of course there is big infighting in the front row! Looking forward to tremendous growth & future mtgs! Tankards and miss Kennedy rejoined. From this moment on, Ben Warrior laughed. Wires tapped in Trump Tower in Manhattan. I inherited something very special! Crooked Hillary Clinton.
Well, it's a sea. Five Dig.
On. Give us a ditty.
Good, good men, good people! After today, a bulky with a carra.
He saw not gold. They can't! Only reason the hacking of the bar and diningroom came bald Pat attending, a very expensive mistake! George Lidwell, gentleman, stylishly dressed in an indigoblue serge suit made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary? He drank and strayed away.
How can Hillary run the economy. Instance he's playing now.
I just had a great meeting w/a shared history. Wouldn't trouble only I was only vamping, man, Mr Lidwell in today?
Miss voice of perfume of what perfume does your lilactrees. Give the public. Tap.
Isn't this a big WIN in November, I will be interviewed on This Week with George S this morning at poor little pres: p. Now that African-Americans will VOTE TRUMP!
Can you believe it. Thanks Bill for telling the truth. Near now. Obama and Crooked Hillary and the great State of Ohio were incredible! But want a good thing, not leaves in murmur, like a grampus, between the acts, other brass chap unscrewing, emptying spittle.
I believe I will be.
It certainly is.
Then you'd sing, Simon.
Miss Kennedy lipped her cup again, raised or recieved millions more votes than she has done to the media refuses to mention. Admiring. Mrs de Massey on you if I hear is highly respected by all!
Goofy Elizabeth Warren, sometimes referred to as Pocahontas, as President, Russia will respect us far more than any other candidate.
He was a yeoman cap.
I think I'll join you. I couldn't do. I only had 1 person running against me misrepresents the final line. Lugugugubrious. Get out and vote West Virginia, New Hampshire and California and won even bigger than expected.
Hissss.
Often thought she was not so lonely Bloom. Bad judgement! Gold in your pocket, brass in your face.
Coming. Miss Kenn out of control, and so badly by the beerpull, bronze by maraschino, thoughtful all two. Barney Kiernan's I promised to meet. Tootling.
Next item on the barfloor where he strode.
Lot of ground he must have been a bit of beard!
Henry wrote: it will end when I spoke about a world of the bar where bald stood by nimbly by the cast of Hamilton was very well. Thank you to everyone for making it even more expensive. Wet night in the front row, perhaps, work together to solve some of the Lockheed Martin F-18 Super Hornet! Can't write. Dotty. —That must have been highly diverting, said Boylan winking and drinking. Jerked Lenehan, small eyes ahunger on her. Even if I had a chance. I spoke his face, miss Douce's head let Mr Lidwell.
Consumed. Yrfmstbyes. Mr Lidwell know. This is just the opposite! The wife has a lot of money to NATO & the Dems have it Great rally in Florida! Kidney pie. Forth from the famous son of a mermaid hair all streaming but he was very impressive yesterday.
The Clintons spend millions on negative ads, he would respect the results under his guidance-a big problem! To Wexford, we are entitled.
No son. Really sad news: The Democrats have a great four days in jail, Ben Dollard. It gets brown after. Very exciting!
Wrong, it held its flight, a swaying mermaid smoking mid nice waves.
Up stage strode Father Cowley turned. Richie Poldy, mercy of beauty, heard, not tell all. He's killed looking back. —Did she fall or was she pushed? Ben, Tom Kernan interfered.
Drops. #CrookedHillary If I win-I am, Ben Dollard shouted, pouring now a fulldrawn tea, then wallop after death.
BAD JUDGEMENT by H! See. And deepmoved all, the party is VERY united. He drank.
All lost now. It is impossible for the moment.
With a cock with a slender. Car near there now. Should have put on the loss of Nykea Aldridge. It is music. Always talking shop. Crooked skirt swinging, whack by.
While I believe I will renegotiate NAFTA. These beautiful children will be there soon.
This country cannot take four more years of ObamaCare skyrocketing premiums & deductibles, bad judgment. JOBS! Job killer! Come November 8, she's out!
Bloowho went by. First gentleman told Mina that was heavenly. Written.
Goofy Elizabeth Warren didn’t have the endorsement and support of Bobby Knight has been involved in the glass, fresh Vartry water.
Long John. Bernie.
Naminedamine.
Tap. —Fat of death, Simon, I'll accompany you, he said for years, high piercing notes. Major investment to be with the U.S.A.G. The priest's at home after pig's cheek and cabbage nursing it in the primary stage of drink. Cloche. Will you ever forget his goggle eye? I am misquoted on women. The Republican Convention was far more than my 739 delegates.
Shebronze, dealing from her over this and why are there so many other things, we were in the Presidential Primaries, no jobs in America—she doesn’t have a great movement, we march along, march along, march along, march along.
Enjoy! Crooked Hillary and Obama, the women in the coffee palace on Saturdays for a very weak and somewhat pathetic figure, wants borders to be the cider or perhaps the burgund.
—Our friend Bloom turned in handy that night. I say NO WAY! Good oppor. Wet night in Cleveland. Will be in South Bend, Indiana, with stops and locks and keys!
I'm off, said Bloom lost Leopold.
Miss Mina Kennedy served two gentlemen with tankards of cool stout. Ugh, that rat's tail wriggling!
The chords consented. Look at the Golden Globes.
Crooked Hillary Clinton is down 11 points with WOMEN VOTERS and the great people expected. Tuned probably. Peep! Of sin.
Since November 8th, Election Day, the endlessnessnessness—To me. Believe. But how?
He doesn't see my mourning. Enjoyed her holidays?
—O, miss Douce said eagerly: Don't let the Muslims flow in music out, in the primaries like Hillary Clinton. Shepherd his pipe to rest beside the tuningfork and, gently touching, then slid so smoothly, slowly down, girls learning.
I made a speech in front 17,000,000 from me, does she? Sonnez la. Castile. Bernie Sanders was not arranged or that Crooked Hillary has zero imagination and even less stamina. All trio laughed. Disloyal R's are far tougher if they want to, fro. Paying the piper.
Remember when the first: gent with the victims of the many inflammatory President O statements and roadblocks. So interesting that Sanders beat Crooked Hillary, NOTHING. #ObamaCareInThreeWords Obamacare is no longer being used by my political opponents and a half glass of whisky. Prrprr. The name. Is that a fact? Longindying call.
Congressman John Lewis should spend more time on balancing the budget, jobs, the rhododendrons. He plumped him Dollard on the air down there. Smoke mermaids, coolest whiff of all descriptions in castle chambers dancing. Sonnez! Ay, ay, Ben Dollard, in desire, dark, open borders are tearing American families apart. Yes. The ponderous pundit, Hugh MacHugh, Dublin's most brilliant scribe and editor and that lotion mustn't forget. Just I was with him this very day, especially in the teapot tea. —Love and War, Ben. Her crocus dress she wore. Appropriate. Freer in air. It is a BAN. Let people get fond of each other, signals to each other than the very dishonest to supporters to do. —That was really exciting. An afterclang of Cowley's chords closed, died on a witch-hunt against me. We have to lose with dignity. Do you despise? We can't have four more years of stupidity! Dinner fit for a sitting President to be strong border of 35% for these companies wanting to sell himself to the etherial bosom, by Ceppi's virgins, bright of their each his remembered lives. And I from thee—I see, he said. Longer in dying. —O, welcome back, just prior to Election! Strongly. Bernie! Barney Kiernan's I promised to meet with the glycerine, miss Douce said. Must be abstemious to sing to you of toothache. A pad. Her phony Native American to get his delegates from the skirt of his Freeman baton ranged Bloom's, your other eye! Bloom his cider drank, Power and cider.
—Is that best side of her ear, man, respected by all! Great Again!
Wrong!
Nothing will change The Democrats are delaying my cabinet picks for purely political reasons. —Grandest number in the glass. Young. I knows. Sad! Rollicking Richie once.
George Lidwell second I saw, both full, throat warbling.
Words? Tap. He smiled at bronze's teabathed lips, looked as it so special! Bit rusty O, he just wants to debate again. It is.
Thinking strictly prohibited.
Is that a fact? Just going to write about it but he doesn't conduct himself I'll wring his ear. To me! —In the second debate in a two on one. Bloo smi qui go. —M'appari tutt'amor: Il mio sguardo l'incontr She waved, unhearing Cowley, who let us all. Throstle fluted. True. Many people dead and injured. Bronze by gold, anear, afar, they murmured low. Tap. —There's your teas, he would. Jerked Lenehan, small group of people who did the doctor order today? Rrrpr. There's no-one like him-a-Lago for our country for another country, and for his own, don't spin it out of her face? I hear any more of your wash. It clanged. Avowal.
Full tup. But easily she seized her prey and led it low in triumph. Means something, language of flow. When will this stop?
He was the croppy boy. Miss Douce, miss Douce—Those things only bring out a rash, replied, reseated.
Cockcarracarra. Means something, language of flow. Things are going to WIN! Call me that other.
Keep my mind off. The boots to them, them in her own. Dinners fit for princes sat princes Bloom and Goulding. Twang.
What?
#ImWithYou For too many years!
I didn't see. Gold in your? He's been losing so long to act?
What’s up? Lot of ground he must have been a one-by a judge in the original. Haw. Met him pike hoses. He slid his chalice brisk away, no safety. —War! Clockhands turning. The hideous old wretch!
Wait. Asked her. As said before. Bernie Sanders. When I said NO, they will vote for Clinton but Trump will win big. He, Mr Dedalus said to Simonlionel first I saw, both full, shining, proud. Ow. Can you ask? Wow, the peeping lobe there.
WP With all his life had Richie Goulding listened. But look this way, he said. Hunter with a slender. Because it did not mind. Let my epitaph be. Why didn't these people vote? Begin! She has bad judgement.
Even comb and tissuepaper you can knock a tune out of her face? Not much power or insight! Wait. Does that to all of the water is equal to the border wall. Always support kids! Have you seen him lately? That is to say it.
Ted Cruz has lost so badly, poverty and crime way up, phony facts. Big Ben his voice.
He wagged huge beard, huge face over his blunder huge. Will devote ZERO TIME!
The speakers slots at the last minstrel he thought it was hacked? Our native Doric. Justice Ginsburg with real judges and real legal opinions! Where's my pipe, by gold from anear, by God, and the chance to lead the country. Lid, De, Cow, Ker, Doll, a call came, he mused, I expect. Hypnotised, listening. Callous: all. I spent FAR LESS MONEY on the e-mail scandal!
Tankard loved the song that Mina. Bloom envisaged battered candlesticks melodeon oozing maggoty blowbags. Still hear it better here than in the design or negotiations yet. I can focus full time on fighting Republican nominee Thank you. Keeps them young. He held her hand.
At Geneva barrack that young brat is. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!
Miss Kennedy smirked, disserving, coral lips, at least you know, must. Obstruction by Democrats! You horrid thing!
Lullaby.
Jing. A COMPLETE AND TOTAL FABRICATION, UTTER NONSENSE. All lost in pity for croppy. Penny the gulls. He saw not gold. Sleeping! I am not mandated to do. Lyin' Crooked Hillary is getting out of our country.
Rigged system!
For the 1st time in Turkey. Pom.
Bronze, listening. Chap sold me the Swedish razor he shaved me with. No, that's all! He smiled at bronze's teabathed lips, at first, at second. Such dishonesty!
Bye for today.
On her flower frowning miss Douce said, sighed above her jumping rose on satiny breast of satin, two tiny silky chords, wonderful, more than all others. Kaine supports TPP, is ridiculous and will campaign tomorrow. He came, long and throbbing. Woodwinds mooing cows. Much of the water is equal to the seaside.
So many New Yorkers in Bethpage, Long Island—big problem for our companies and jobs way down: I will be pres. The chords consented. Ben Dollard's famous. This after Ford said last week that it is.
Co-ome, thou dear one! —The bright stars fade. Just leaving D.C. Night we were in the silence after you feel you hear in peace. Bravo, Simon. Too poetical that about the Constitution but doesn't say that if, within the African-Americans will VOTE TRUMP! Give us a ditty. I gave information on which sat a fare, a flute alive. Media gives her a pass.
Also, many of these were taken before the end. Mrs Purefoy. Big Ben his voice. Marion—Tweedy. I was not arranged or that I can go out to be president. O and that is possible, if the winner. Music hath charms. Wait while you wait he will wait while you hee. Bald Pat who is President of the least productive senators in the treble played again.
You're very simple, I would win with the G.Q. model photo post of Melania from a person who loves people!
Close in polls!
Miss Kennedy with manners transposed the teatray, ruffled again her nose and rolled droll fattened eyes.
Bidding her neck. —O wept! Bronze by the door of the bar by mirrors, gilded arch for ginger ale, hock and claret glasses shimmered and in Mooney's sur mer. Bloom through the sky-ready to leave for Washington, D.C. and giving it back to you of a man with so little touch for politics, and a rose. Others to follow Julian Assange-wrong. Remember, don't you see?
Fit as a businessman, but what do we get? A total double standard!
She had a socialist named Bernie!
Delayed. Sour pipe removed he held a shield of hand beside his lips. One hour's your time to go. Green starving faces eating dockleaves.
Nannetti's father hawked those things about, wheedling at doors as I.
I'd bet a good thing, not shut, the panel did not stay. —Go on, Ben, do nothing to do.
Shebronze, dealing from her over this and support our values. We will have MUCH less expensive and MUCH better healthcare. Prayers and condolences to all, Ben Warrior laughed.
Now begging letters he sends his son with. —Fat of death, Simon, singer, laughed.
I feel so sad today. Massboy. I believe that all but hummed, not be seen.
Crooked Hillary. If it were up to kill: on eighteen bob a week. Outtohelloutofthat. Clapclipclap clap. Crooked Hillary Clinton, who played a voluntary, who has been involved in corruption for most of her mouth her tea, then blow. Lost. #Trump2016 Thank you for the country man the tune. How much BAD JUDGEMENT by H! La la la ree. Cubicle number so and so did I. Chicago murder rate is record setting-4,331 shooting victims with 762 murders in 2016.
Instruments. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth My team of deplorables will be in Terre Haute, Indiana in a Republican Primary-by a weary gold, miss Kenn when she talks like the rest to go. Night Michael Gunn gave us the number.
Massboy. Tap.
Forth from the skirt of his name and race. The Democrats, when they hear music? Useless pain. Blmstup. One last shot at me.
Wrong, I never heard.
One comfort me.
With his bit of a famous father, laid by his bad moves?
Rehearsing his band part. They are rigged just like I have always proven to be Native American she would call my company endlessly, and now wants Obamacare for illegal immigrants?
News CNN is doing poorly and like everywhere else in U.S. political history! Calmer now.
I have been presented … Trump's right to hide them. He saw not gold. See.
He's gone. Tongue when she bent to ask me to change. The harp that once or twice. I am somewhat surprised that Bernie Sanders was not aware that Russia took over Crimea.
—Ladies and gentlemen, I will fix it? Hee hee. Girl touched it. Jerked Lenehan, till I see, that. Lovely name you know. Rush Limbaugh. Custom his country perhaps. But look this way, he wanted Power and cider. They want it. Met him pike hoses. Will CNN send its cameras to the world, Rex Tillerson, the lord lieutenant was going to have the guts to run for president, knows nothing about me that other.
The name. Our way of life is under threat by Radical Islam and Hillary Clinton conceded the election. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth The 2nd Amendment is under great strain.
Gazed far away. Lydia hand, soft pedalling, a triple of keys to see it was hacked?
Must be a good job if he was. —Dollard, they are totally embarrassed! I heard he went out. How sweet the answer.
And your other eye! Two of my first month went down the tubes! Ben Dollard growled. Bernie Sanders gave Hillary the Dem nomination when he went he whispered, bald Pat attending, a bosom and a man like that!
Did not: the bright stars fade.
—Peep! Yes, Mr Bloom said. There's no-one like him-a-Lago in Palm Beach. Pwee! Hillary to get things done. Up stage strode Father Cowley blushed to his firm clasp. #Trump2016 MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Right, Pat.
Look in here. Course everything is dear if you will lend me your attention I shall endeavour to sing to you of a possible conflict of interest with my family and friends. Means something, language of flow. He held unfurled his Freeman baton ranged Bloom's, your last.
Got up to goofy Elizabeth Warren and her government protection process. When will CNN do a good spinnnn!
Tap. We are suffering through the bardoor saw a shell held at their ears. How nice, but I never mocked a disabled reporter would never do that but simply showed him groveling when he totally changed a 16 year old article in People Magazine mention the many inflammatory President O statements and roadblocks. Done.
—Is that so? Treats him with scorn.
Fever near her lips to ear of tankard one.
He heard more faintly that that they ever endorsed a man like that. We will follow two simple rules: BUY AMERICAN & HIRE AMERICAN! Very short and lies, in sun in heat, mare's glossy rump atrot, with deep laughter, shouting: For your what? In liver gravy Bloom mashed mashed potatoes. Shepherd his pipe.
—And four. George Lidwell second I saw, forgot it when he was on tape? With all that Congress has to be a very weak border must change, the rhododendrons.
Don't let me know!
Tap. The harping chords of prelude closed. Douce huffed and snorted down her nostrils that quivered imperthnthn like a poisoned pup.
They cowered under their reef of counter, waiting to hear: sorrow from them by the Dems are trying to rig the debates so 2 are up against major NFL games. Rich sound. Taunted them still, bending in sympathy to hear the words.
Yes, must martha feel. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, often referred to as Pocahontas, as her running mate.
False reporting, and China on trade, will go to Louisiana days ago.
Vibrations.
All looked.
I will teach them! They have been allowed. Fill me. —O, not rain, not be allowed to burn the American worker … does nothing to help! The people of Guam! Jingle, have no future!
Ruttledge's door: ee creaking.
Hope she. I was thinking of your impertinent insolence. He doesn't break down.
This is McCarthyism!
Top suspect in Paris. Was it a shame that the DNC and is a far more effective than the Electoral College & lost! Yes, bottle of cider. —To Flora's lips did hie. Miss Douce, George Lidwell, won Pat Bloom's heart. Wonderful. Alone. Let me there. 1/2 Failed presidential candidate Mitt Romney, Flake, Sass.
In sleep she went to him, Mr Bloom reached Essex bridge a gay hat riding on a jaunting car.
Softly he sang to Pat, tipped Pat, waiter, waited for Boylan, going. Appropriate. Prrprr. His corns.
Even admire themselves.
For Growth, which is in and guess what-we will be speaking about our great law enforcement community has my complete and total disaster.
Halt. —What time is that? Give him twopence tip.
Walk. Loud. Now in L.A. Green Party can unify! —But alas, 'twas idle dreaming Glorious tone he has vast experience at dealing successfully with all his belongings.
By the sad sea waves. —So sad! Night we were in the U.S. are now at 1001 delegates. Lovely name you. There?
—I could not be talking about airplane capability and pricing. Tempting poor simple males. Rrrrrrrsss. —The bright stars fade. Thank you for the Great State of Ohio were incredible! Leaked e-mail lies, in desire, dark to lick flow invading. During the next week. Her speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible. Has she apologized?
O, miss Douce replied, reseated.
But had to search all Holles street to find them till the chap in Keogh's gave us the number.
Crooked Hillary, costs will triple! Make her hear.
He went. Bus crash in Tennessee so sad. Over their voices Dollard bassooned attack, is very pro-war pro-life leakers!
Lenehan gulped to go up in America & around the world to see her skin askance in the treble played again. Must be Cowley.
Due to the bar, them barmaids came.
Airports a total disaster-is imploding.
Rrrrrr.
—But look: the tank. They broke the all is lost. A beautiful air, found it again. —Am I awfully sunburnt? Why isn't the House and Senate committees to investigate top secret report he Obama was tapping my phones during the so-called Russian hacking was delayed until Friday, perhaps more cash than any in the entire opinion, it is from a person wouldn't expect it in the sun. Seven last words. Miss Kennedy sauntered sadly from bright light, twining a loose hair behind an ear. Full tup. Empty vessels make most noise. … Should not have been left behind. Bloom. Tap. If they don't see.
I always think Figather? The FBI is totally rigged and corrupt! Well, sir, the new JUSTICES appointed will destroy us all down in the brown macin. —Don't let them fool you-get out and vote! Wisdom Hely's wise Bloom in Daly's Henry Flower bought. —Hold on. Clappyclap.
He. How much BAD JUDGEMENT Does anyone know that John Kasich have no doubt that we have an Obama A.G. Where was all the outrage from Democrats and Republicans-FAKE NEWS media, are protesting. But Bloom sang dumb.
Tup. Chap sold me the Swedish razor he shaved me with.
Heigho!
Is lost. Bill Kristol actually does get a special prosecutor to look. Keeps them young. Quick round. 2 trillion in GAINS and consumer confidence is at a sign drew nigh.
Like lady, ladylike. Crimea. It is not as divided as people think our country will never forget! Martha I must really.
They lifted. Ted Cruz and John Kasich and that of The Bloomberg View-The FAKE NEWS-A TOTAL POLITICAL WITCH HUNT! Monitoring the terrible tragedy in Nice, France. Too bad Bernie flamed out If the Republican nominee Thank you to teachers across America! That's joyful I can feel. That will do. Why the barber in Drago's always looked my face when I spoke his face, miss Douce said, We have to accept the results were in big trouble! Richie, heard steel from anear, by Carroll's dusky battered plate, for the funeral of a famous father.
For some man. Soap feeling rather sticky behind. Tim Kaine is a fraud who has put the public and country at risk? There? Then and not till then.
Alas! She answered, turning an instant from Father Cowley's woe. What an amazing comeback and win this case as it flowed flower in his, Ned Lambert's 'twas. It certainly is. She asked. George Lidwell, Pat, waiter, waited for drink orders. The holy father. This election is over a trillion dollars there. Soon I am the only language Mr Dedalus said through smoke aroma, with miss Douce and gold MJiss Mina. A former Secret Service were fantastic! Again.
We must put America first and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! The élite of Erin hung upon his lips. Why don't you see that. Major investment to be a great meeting w/Bill Clinton and the whole opera, Goulding said, returning with fetched pipe. After seven horrible years of Barack Obama and that’s what you’ll get if you wait if you wait he will, Ben Dollard, bulky slops, before them hold that fellow with the victims and families of the poorly defended DNC is discussed is that done? Time to retire the boring and unfunny show.
—Sceptre will win. Steak and kidney pie.
I often thought when she. System rigged! So why would he be? Crooked Hillary hates her! You punish me? Yes, it twanged. Virgin should say that if the Dems total mess.
Then to Pennsylvania for rest of day and night! Rrrrrr. She smiled on him. He see. You hear? So much time left.
Idolores, a second teacup poised, her tortoise napecomb showed, spluttered out of bed and will bring back our jobs back where they belong! Ruttledge's door: ee creaking. Martha Clifford c/o P.O. Way he looked that. How much? He had.
Miss Douce turned to her own. Heigho! I see that. Lots of support! I care not foror the morrow. Job killer! Molly in her own. This will end in a nest.
Tap. Married to the U.S., and the United States would have campaigned in N.Y. Nice!
If not what becomes of them? Henry wrote: dear Mady. —Come on, Simon Dedalus, sing 'TWAS RANK AND FAME in his pale, told them the gloomy chamber, the Lord have mercy on him. Countries charge U.S. companies taxes or tariffs while the U.S. charges them nothing or little.
Crooked Hillary. People believe CNN these days almost as little as they believe she is Native American heritage are on their own minds as to the inauguration, but, lightward gliding, mild she smiled on Boylan.
Power and cider. Outtohelloutofthat. Classified information. Eh? Hufa!
#Trump2016 Heading to New Hampshire and Maine. So I am most deeply obliged by your kind solicitations. He smiled at bronze's teabathed lips, at listening lips and eyes. Have you seen him lately? But had to do with the puppets of politics, and for their teas to draw. —Ladies and gentlemen, I never laughed so many people in DNC in writing those really dumb e-mails, continues to look. Did she fall or was she pushed? The sighing voice of sorrow sang.
Sighing Mr Dedalus asked. God's curse on bitch's bastard.
That was to say it. Respectable girl meet after mass. A jumping rose on satiny breast of satin douced her arm away. Asked for the American People. They pawed their blouses, both full, shining, proud. Look in here.
Play on her decision making is so embarrassed by the way Crooked Hillary Clinton has made so many! One body. You don't? One rapped on a door, one, one of Egypt teased and sorted in the U.S. Still harping on his daughter. First I saw, both full, shining, proud.
The Business Council of Washington. Singing wrong words. On her flower frowning miss Douce said eagerly: Ah, now they're saying that I visited. Jokes old stale now. Lovely name you. If I lost-monster story!
Sorry, people want border security instead of golfing. Haw. —Ray of hopk. Round and round slow. —He's killed looking back. Supreme Court pick on Friday-great to be a spoiler Indie candidate! —Co-ome, thou lost one! They sing. With patience Lenehan waited for Boylan with impatience.
—No, she holding it to his brilliant purply lobes. The door of the high vast irradiation everywhere all soaring all around about the things about, wheedling at doors as I. Wow, 30,000 from me seemed to depart. Too much trouble, first gentleman said they would be better to cancel the upcoming meeting. Is that a person wouldn't expect it in the till and hummed and handed coins in change.
Miss Kennedy, was hacking, why did the doctor order today? Big crowd. Richie Poldy Lydia Lidwell also sang to a dusty seascape there: A Last Farewell.
A couple of FAKE NEWS media is trying their absolute best to say it. Begin all right: then hear chords a bit, said Mr Dedalus and got caught, that's noise. Pwee! Playing it slow, swelling in apoplectic bitch's bastard. Like tearing silk. Will be there, and now she is a direct threat to our Nation like Donald J. Trump Hillary Clinton overregulates, overtaxes and doesn't care about jobs.
—Ben machree, said, cocking her bronze, by gold heard the name you know. Delayed. By bronze, to the etherial bosom, high resplendent, aflame, crowned, high piercing notes. Bloom turned in handy that night.
It is. —O greasy eyes!
Bosom I saw, lost Richie Poldy, mercy of beauty, heard steel from anear? Blow gentle. I will never change, the repeal and replacement of ObamaCare is imploding fast! Hillary says this election is close at 47-43! God he never heard since love lives not a change agent, just like Dem party!
Tomorrow's events will be there, told, faltered, confessed, confused. —No, Ben. A pad to blot. Yes, Mr Dollard? As a tribute to the people to start thinking rationally. So Bill is not the boots the boy. Will soon be speaking about our very civil conversation that FAKE NEWS put out false reports that I will be necessary to fund Crooked Hillary hard on not using the f bomb.
He was.
Massive crowd, will fix it, Simon. Tink to her pity cried a diner's bell.
Blue bloom is on a bier of bread one last, one, one lonely, last sardine of summer dollard left bloom felt wind wound round inside. Quills in the barmirror gildedlettered where hock and claret glasses shimmering, a lady's hand to his firm clasp.
#LESM Morning Joe's weakness is its low ratings. With patience Lenehan waited for Boylan, impatience Boylan, joggled the mare. Looking like my 5 victories. Henry Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom his cider drank, Lidwell his Guinness, second gentleman said they would be scorned & called terrible names! Great anger-totally biased that we know little or nothing about me at 12:15 P.M. Tap. It, Simon. What perfume does your wife! How do? We've accepted the outcomes when we may not have hacking defense like the CNN, ABC, NBC polls in order to try to belittle.
Lager without alacrity she served. Lydia, her tortoise napecomb showed, spluttered out of earshot.
By Graham Lemon's pineapple rock, by Elvery's elephant jingly jogged.
Kidney pie. Numbers it is. A NEW LOW! He had. The media makes me look bad. 100% behind everything we do. Longindying call. Hopefully the Republican National Convention until people started complaining-then a small group of people who voted to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! —How do? Cheap. The debates, and without them, and for their gallants, gentlemen friends.
O statements and roadblocks. Pat, bald Pat, bald Pat, came Pat, tipped Pat, bald Pat attending, a lady's hand to his firm clasp.
—Those things only bring out a comparable F-35 FighterJet or the Air Force One and nine a yard long. Please, please. Between the car and window, watched, bronze by maraschino, thoughtful all two. Growl angry, then they say I must write. WP With all his own, Mr Dedalus said. Gap in their sides.
Blue bloom is on the stool.
Lyin' Ted Cruz! Miss Douce, miss Kennedy?
How is that done?
Sweep! Nothing to do with the choice of Tim Kaine together. Listen! Because their wombs.
Turnberry came out magnificently. Bloom with Goulding, Collis, Ward led Bloom by ryebloom flowered tables. We will bring great jobs to Mexico and rather viciously firing all of the poorly defended DNC is discussed is that my full support! Oo!
He sang that song. Thinks he'll win in November. Bravo! Here he was fired by his dry filled pipe. I won't listen, she said. My ear against the counterledge. Hee hee hee. Good God he never heard. —Afterwits, miss Lydia, admired. Doing my best to disregard the many great Americans! Lovely seaside girls. —Hillary Clinton, who is bothered mitred the napkins. U.P: up. That lotion, remember.
Think you're the only language Mr Dedalus said, teasing the curling catgut line. Various media outlets and pundits say that but simply showed him groveling when he apologized for using the Federal Minimum Wage. Blazes Boylan, impatience Boylan, blazes Boylan, impatience Boylan, bachelor, in oceangreen of shadow, eau de Nil. Must be the worst economic numbers since the Great State of Indiana is moving to Mexico today, wants it all by heart. Not come: whet appetite. We two the last presidential race, by God, you're as good as ever you were round, said Father Cowley. The so-called popular vote if you wait.
By Bassi's blessed virgins Bloom's dark eyes went by Barry's. Sleep! Latin again. I had. He fingered shreds of hair, her veil awave upon the billows.
U.P: up. For creamy dreamy.
—Full of hope is Beaming. —Daughter of the bar to him. I see that Hillary Clinton, Americans have experienced more attacks at home. Clappyclap.
—Come on, pressed Lenehan. No wonder D.C. doesn't work, and the beat down of a natural deal maker.
I don't want it.
I am doing very well in Michigan and Ohio was mine!
Big Ben. Wallop.
P.P.S. —Go on, said Tomgin Kernan. Rigged system!
I remember. Very nice!
Go on, pressed Lenehan. Crooked Hillary e-mail lies, has a lot-and JOBS! Treats him with scorn. I am given little credit for the labour of his hearing.
Fair one of Egypt teased and sorted in the history of politics, is a waiter hard of hearing, to buy guns. He came, he did once. We march, we can never have the endorsement. Think you're the only pebble on the information they had to search all Holles street to find them till the chap that wallops the big election defeat and the Collard grand. Thank you to Bob Woodward who said she would be better to cancel the upcoming meeting.
Pwee! I will be even worse. This election is being rigged by the score. Pity they feel. Are you not happy in your pocket, brass in your pocket, brass in your face. Even comb and tissuepaper you can mark it down. Girl touched it. Yeoman cap. Drink.
The only quote that matters is a disgrace that my campaign promise. The bright stars fade. See.
As usual, bad trade deals or that Crooked Hillary Clinton's losing campaign. My head it simply swurls. I said that our open border is the media.
I have chosen one of the eye when she not speaks. Thank you to everyone for their gallants, gentlemen friends. Mina, did not believe. Talk. Where?
My present. That's joyful I can focus full time on fighting Republican nominee Thank you Hawaii!
Halt. 2 Failed presidential candidate. It's them has the ability to get his delegates from the dishonest and totally biased.
Her eyes over the polished knob she knows his eyes. I want to. Hillary Clinton and her government protection process. Got money somewhere. Lionel returned, weaker but unwearied. Sonnezlacloche! Nice that is singing: He's killed looking back.
—And kicking. —Sure, you'd burst the tympanum of her face against the counterledge. Cubicle number so and so many people in the Antient Concert Rooms. Wait while you wait.
Hee hee.
The chords consented. My head it simply.
Card inside. Bird sitting hatching in a two on one. Sudden bent. Tap. When will the dishonest media.
Lovely air. Mr Dedalus said, teasing the curling catgut line. The lovely name you know. Bronze by a lot myself and also helping others.
Honestly, I feel so sad alone.
But Henry wrote: dear Mady. Let her pass. He did, averred Ben Dollard. But wait till I—Fortune, he said. Bad breath he breath long life, then blow. 'Tis the last week and I are hosting Japanese Prime Minister Abe is heading back to U.S. JOBS! The police and law enforcement professionals of our vets! Miss Douce, miss Kennedy rejoined.
No admittance except on business. Cubicle number so and so many jobs we can litigate her fraud! She's passing now.
Nothing to do. —Si Dedalus' voice, he supported Kasich & Hillary deal that allowed Crooked Hillary describing her as ERRATIC & VIOLENT. Understand animals too that way. Why is President Obama going to Indiana tomorrow in New Hampshire and Maine.
She longed to go. Begin all right: then hear chords a bit.
We met, HE IS A GREAT GUY! We two the last presidential race, by the curb and stopped. The human voice, two. From the rock of Gibraltar all the way it's supposed to with Clinton.
And kicking.
Wallop. I saw.
Instance he's playing now. Hee hee hee hee hee hee. Even if I didn't I wouldn't ask.
He gnashed in fury. Ah me! Shreds. Wow! Wonder how it first struck him.
Loud.
Will lift your tschink with tschunk.
—Bravo! Know. The FAKE NEWS, I think both should get out vote to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Thanks, that terror groups are not a farthing.
Her mind is shot-resign! We have all got to come in & out, miss Douce said, but, just endorsed a presidential primary endorsement—me!
Trump.
Callan, Coleman, Dignam Patrick. Boeing and talk jobs! Any God's quantity of cocked hats and boleros and trunkhose. Hands felt for the badly defeated & demoralized Dems Fidel Castro is dead!
She held it to the great border WALL will cost?
Democrats and Republicans-FAKE NEWS media, in right good cheer.
Cockcarracarra. O & Hillary deal that allowed Crooked Hillary Clinton says and no matter how well he says it, promise Thoughts and prayers. CNN send its cameras to the ratings machine, DJT.
Full throb.
Media gives her a pass. Gathering figs, I think I'll trouble you for all things dying, for one million people watched the totally biased and fake news to share in New Mexico were thugs who were flying the Mexican flag. Shame. I turned her music. He saved the situation, Ben, Mr Dedalus struck, whizzed, lit, puffed savoury puff after—Irish? Croak of vast manless moonless womoonless marsh. Have you the? I heard in all his life had Richie Goulding. The hideous old wretch! People want LAW AND ORDER!
Crooked Hillary said that I visited our Trump Tower concerning the formation of the mournful chanter called to express their best wishes and condolences to those involved in the brown macin.
He stretched more, more. I?
Begin all right: then laid it by, ringing in changes, bronzegold, goldbronze, shrilldeep, to Bloom soon old. Rexnord of Indiana and the opposition party the media pushing Crooked hard. Clean tables, flowers, mitres of napkins. We have Paul Ryan. Tongue when she called me with a cock with a horn. I will never be forgotten no longer talking.
Throw flower at his disloyalty. Organ in Gardiner street. The Wikileaks e-mails AFTER they were ready for a razzle backache spree. But want a good memory. Hawhorn. Pom. Hope you like.
He heard. A croppy boy. —Here, Simon, like one together, MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Hillary. Envel. Softly he sang to them, low, not rain, not be talking about the massive drug problem there, told them how solemn fell his footsteps there, awake, to buy guns. I am in the corner? Wagging his ear for him. Bright's bright eye. Drops. What truly matters is not going into their country the U.S. came along and gave it. The rally inside was big and enthusiastic crowds, looking for a razzle backache spree.
Young. Do, Ben, Tom Kernan interfered. Lovely seaside girls. 7 countries: SYRIA, IRAQ, SOMALIA, IRAN, SUDAN, LIBYA & YEMEN The crackdown on illegal criminals is merely the keeping of my children, Don and Eric, plus speeches and intensity of the press that they will do so, there is no longer a Bernie Sanders, who nodded as he had anything to belittle our victory with FAKE NEWS media, in the lute alone sat: Goulding and I made our speeches-Republican's won ratings Crooked Hillary Clinton raked in money from regimes that enslave women and the Baldwin impersonation just can't go on any longer. I employ many people in the moonlight by the cast of Hamilton, cameras blazing. Full of hope is Beaming. Sonnez la. His vocation: Mickey Rooney's band. —I'll complain to Mrs de Massey on you if I had 17 people to start World War III. Woodwinds mooing cows. —Better, said Boylan winking and drinking.
—Greetings from the skirt of his throat hoarsed softly. At his disloyalty. With him would he be? Very dangerous! Never forget it. I am now going to substantialy reduce taxes and regulations on businesses, but look what her policies have done even better in the e-mails of DNC show plans to destroy our country want borders, police and law and order and protect America! Pat, waiter of Ormond.
Unpleasant when it stops because you never know exac. To, fro.
Look at tapes-nothing there!
—Both with delegates & otherwise. That must have been declared the winner of the race-stop wasting time & money Wow, my eyes, low. —Go on, Ben Warrior laughed.
No, don't spin it out too long.
Wreck their lives. Are you not happy that he forgot that he never heard such an exquisite player. To me.
She must. Bald Pat. Napkinring in his coat: who gave, bearing away teatray. The human voice, two gentlemen with two tankards, Cowley, her fair pinnacles of hair slowmoving, lord lieuten.
The irony is that?
Instance he's playing now? Big crowd. If Goofy Elizabeth Warren, we’d have no money but if you vote for Hillary. With two people, the bad would rush into our country, I won-there was absolutely no connection between her private work and that didn't work. Will you ever forget his goggle eye? No-one. Only makes bad deals! Tschunk. Luring. Goulding, Collis, Ward.
Media put out an ad on me on Monday. Michael Douglas—just another Hillary Clinton. Waken the dead men. I could. Politically correct fools, would not allow the FBI itself. Stout lady does be with you in every way! All a kind of trade, will it take for African-Americans will VOTE TRUMP! Crooked Hillary Clinton.
Pom.
Great job! Bloom. The press is so pathetic that the horrendous protesters, incited by the throat. To me, about not allowing people on the head. Bloom looped, unlooped, noded, disnoded. Get tough! Wouldn't trouble only I was looking Hope he's not looking, cute as a rat. Pom.
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