Villain for Hire 3 Audiobook now Out!
Villain for Hire 3: Maidens and Masterminds on audio is now out!
The four rules of freelance villainy are as follows:
Always wear a mask
Never hurt civilians
Never kill the heroes you’re paid to fight.
And the bad guy always loses.
But there's an unspoken fifth rule: Don't get involved with heroes off the clock.
Too bad that's not an option after taking down Teklin. And even worse, it's with the Heroes of Earth, one of the biggest hero orgs in the world! Apparently, they have some concerns about me founding a new evil organization. Just because I have a home death ray, an evil lair, and a trio of gorgeous villainess lovers, not to mention a demoness who's taking a vacation in my house.
And I really don't have time to deal with heroes. Because a group of mad scientists called the Brain Trust are after my psychic villainess, all to power a machine to either take over the world, or ensure everyone flosses.
Just another day as a Villain for Hire.
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Nagra-Kudelski Nagra III, first released in 1957
The Nagra III is in some respects the father of all other Nagras as it bears the iconic large modulometer and rotary selector.
The Nagra III was used extensively in the broadcast and film industries, not to mention in scientific applications and location recordings more generally.
It allowed the sound engineer the freedom to move around capturing sounds never heard before.
More than 10’000 Nagra IIIs were built which makes it the most popular Nagra ever.
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By @mantrabay
Jay A Pallen A Wonderful Sister And Friend.
On a silver moonlit pillow’s blissful patch I dreamt nirvana
verses for my sister Jay and our magic mutual bond, that
gem-laden treasure chest, that life support as ironclad rampart
for our twin psyche sparkle, an infinite reciprocal alignment
boldly mocking earthly distance.
This sleep-infused wee small hours tribute I reveal in
wonder world heaven sent passages below.
It takes a sibling to sense her brother’s needs
this day of days when futures are at stake.
School of excellence, end point graduation,
marks assigned by dons with cool detachment.
Ray of light, ray of hope, the twinkle in my sister’s eye
as she scours every moth-infested drawer
within her razor sharp remit.
Advocate sublime, curator, organizer and locator
of an infinite infernal swot.
To do on sticky paper, insight on forgotten file
and other motleys waiting to be culled.
Never fear, my sister’s instinct was seldom wrong on things scholastic.
This in and of itself a most sustaining factor in our lifelong bond.
Tattered lecture notes, well thumbed references,
random line on refill pad or prosaic jotter,
themes one should revise at countless intervals had Jay’s cognoscenti seal.
Fine friend, my sister, queen of cheerful intuition.
Jay, majestic and meticulous, with her photographic
sense of total recall showed her love as I did
without fail since her arrival on planet earth.
An instant early meeting of two minds has
enjoyed so many epic world adventures.
My sister’s voice has always been that constant solid rock through
years of titan toil and hard-won flair.
Midnight coffees we both shared in a crouch beneath
some floating arm light, without crib or cob.
Nostalgia flooding back in visual bursts at breakneck speed.
Guffaws and hearty groans abound at gaffes in early tests.
Canny probes, mouse trap phrases, deceitful hidden lure
setting off a wave of forehead wrinkles and squirm worm faces.
How my sister would pour scorn upon each cunning setup,
the demon ruse behind the brazen pry,
the snare that made a patsy of us all, novice and veteran alike.
Reflecting on times past together our prelude to
some golden mirror on the task ahead.
A final glance at tips from other students,
one final scan of teachers subtle hints, that final flick through memory aids of one kind or another knowing Jay would steer
each rough sea course with such aplomb.
Pulse rates hurtling over hurdles at the cusp yet
staunch sister fair wouldn’t disappoint or let me fret,
heartbeats on a Himalayan high would tranquillise upon
Jay Pallen’s mystic smile,
blood pressure readings might rumble rafters but we’re no
match for two relations who understood what friendship meant.
Despite her brother’s inner qualm, a glow ray beacon
oozes warmth.
Oh sister of iridescent star-bright lustre
one light peck might keep us both within each other’s orbits
as another passing out proceeds apace.
And wondrous sister Jay, loyal comrade, stood beside
her loyal brother in mutual awe.
Entirely my own work.
Genuine thanks to all who read this piece.
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Boris Karloff performing “It Was a Very Good Year” on the Jonathan Winters show, which aired October 30th 1968. Karloff died three months later on February 2nd 1969 at the age of 81. Unfortunately only the audio remains of this performance, but what does remain is very good quality, luckily.
Gardibolt on Tapatalk writes:
"Many of us, including me, remember well the night of Wednesday, October 30, 1968. According to the TV guide, our hero Boris Karloff would be appearing on THE JONATHAN WINTERS SHOW with Agnes Moorehead in a Halloween episode of Winters' variety show. While at the end Karloff and Moorehead would do a mad doctor skit with Winters that was pretty much what we expected, earlier in the show we got quite a surprise: Boris Karloff, on stage, by himself. The music swells, and he begins to sing the schmaltzily nostalgic song, "It Was a Very Good Year." It was not at all what most of us expected, but as we watched, we found the sight of this elderly man, wistfully reminiscing in song, tremendously moving. In hindsight, with the knowledge of how very ill Karloff was, and the fact that three months later he'd be gone from us, the song has an air of farewell. One of the great moments in my television viewing over the decades."
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