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2020.09.18 16:56 PhatA18Sepl G-ay Se-x Big Di--ck Video

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2020.09.18 16:50 MansA18Sepl Spy pooping

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2020.09.10 19:23 SloppyEyeScream Gunfighter Dad: Cesar Millan (OP); The Poop Whisperer!

Well, I may have miscalculated a bit. I simply didn't think "Gunfighter Dad" stories would interest people. They are really nothing more than rants, but I decided to make some snazzy flair. In all honesty though, you are really just listening to me bitch about my trials and tribulations of fatherhood. I use "fatherhood" very loosely. I average more than 270-days a year "on the road." Where the fuck are you going with this OP? Simply, please treat these stories as a rant. I am by no means offering anyone fucking fatherly advice. I am quite literally the last human on this flying blueberry you should ever reach out to for "leadership nuggets" when it comes to parenting. In fact, do the opposite of me.
I thought I was going to be out with Army-work for the better part of the day, but we didn't get all the ammo we requested. I just plowed through 500-rounds of nine mil. I still have Cleaner, Lubricant, Preservative (CLP), and black carbon smudges on my fingers. My hand screamed "Team America: World Police. Fuck Yeah! Eat our shit and suck on our balls." Still, they needed to be washed before I started another Gunfighter Dad story. I may love the smell of CLP, but I don't think it is an appropriate lubricant for my government computer.
I don't have a great deal of pet peeves, but the ones I have send me into an angry-orbit.

  1. Snoring. Sleep is a vitally important and precious activity in my current line of work. I understand people don't deliberately snore, but it drives me crazy. I simply cannot take my mind off the sound of the offenders "calling hogs."
  2. Mouth-Open Chewing: I can get buy for the most part. However, lip-smacking or chewing gum is a different case. I may look like I am intently following along with the conversation, but rest assured, my brain is telling me to punch you in your ball-washer (mouth).
  3. Failed Extractions: Flush the fucking toilet. Nobody wants to look at your underwater sculptures or bum-slugs. Are you too weak to press a button or pull a lever? Were you raised in the wild? If you answer no to both those questions and still fail to flush; you are just a plain nasty troglodyte-savage.
I have more, but they are "fat kids in dodge-ball" at this moment in time; fucking out. Let us recap! The sounds of freedom reverberated for a couple hour as I sent lead jellybeans "down-range" in the name of freedom. I oiled, and cleaned the black angel of retribution. Traces of freedom were on my hands, thus I washed them. I go to exit the bathroom and I see a failed extraction. The smell was still thick, and I knew a lazy fucking savage was in the area. Did I hunt the culprit down and beat the flush into him or her? Fuck no! I remembered a Gunfighter Dad story that needed to be relayed. Prepare to read, because I am prepared to rant.
I had just returned from a four month trip to Jordan. Unfortunately, I had missed virtually all the milestones parents look forward to. I never saw either of my children roll, crawl, or walk. Fortunately, I missed the potty training for one of them. Unfortunately, again, I had just returned when Cake was in his last semester of potty training high school. I didn't know I had a superpower at the time either. I was about to transform in Cesar Millan, but I wouldn't be talking to dogs, I was unknowingly the "Poop Whisperer." What a fucking prestigious honor to bestow upon a struggling father. Thank you eight pound, six ounce, newborn baby Jesus.
My wife had just left for a national nursing conference. She was heading to sunny San Diego, while I sat at home and waited for Cake to kickoff the rapture. I waited 30-minutes after the wife left to "make my rounds." I had to ensure Kelly was alive, and that Cake was not plotting the demise of someone, or something. All was quiet on the eastern front, until I checked their bathroom. There was a failed extraction. There was no need to ask, my Poop Whisperer ability shouted "Cake."
OP: Cake!
Cake: Yeah Dad.
OP: Come to your bathroom. Now!
I can hear the potato-bodied toddler patter down the hall. I stood there staring at the toilet, but something was off. I could clearly see a toddler turd in the toilet, but there was zero toilet paper. My child had just gone full-retard. Shame; you're never supposed to go full-retard.
Cake: Yeah Dad?
OP: What's wrong with this picture.
Cake: What picture? (See? Full-retard.)
OP: The toilet. What is wrong with the toilet.
Cake: I forgot to flush? (Jesus! Zero conviction. It wasn't a "statement," he answered question-like.)
OP: Yes, AND?
Cake: I didn't flush. (Great! More conviction, but he now lacks awareness.)
OP: Yes. You didn't flush. What else?
Cake: I didn't flush!
Problem solved right? I fulfilled my parental obligation for the day. Nothing happened the rest of the night, so we can simply fast-forward 24-hours. I am, again, making my rounds and guess what I see in the children's bathroom? Another fucking failed extraction.
OP: Cake! Bathroom! NOW!
The potato-bodied toddler sounds as if he is moving at light speed. I think he knows, and I know he knows; it's trouble!
Cake: Yeah Dad?
OP: What is wrong with this picture? The toilet specifically!
Cake: Oh! I forgot to flush again.
Cake: I only forgot to flush.
OP: You didn't wipe your ass again!
Cake: YES I DID!
He answered with conviction. Finally! Parents can typically tell when their humanoids are lying. Additionally, we can tell when our humanoids are telling the truth, even if you previously "knew" they were lying. He honestly believed he had wiped his ass, but I had my suspicions.
OP: Really? You wiped your ass. Did you hide the toilet paper under your poop?
Cake: (Giggle.) No.
OP: Then "WHERE" is the toilet paper if you wiped?
No verbal answer was required this time. I got the finger point. Where did that chubby little finger point? Clearly not the toilet. He pointed at the trash can. The fucking trash can. This little trash can was stocked full of clearly used shit-tickets. Insert face-palm and shake my head. I think I just hit rock bottom of parenthood. The used shit-tickets in the trash can are indisputable scientific evidence that my wife spawned a savage. Maybe it was here fault, maybe something went wrong in the baking process!?!
I do my own laundry on deployment. I separate my clothes between whites, lights, darks, and towels. It is not my favorite thing to do, but I know how to do laundry. However, I rarely ever get this opportunity to do laundry at the house due to my travels. My weekends home are typically spent preparing for another trip. The wife left me hanging, but I was home. I figure I will score some brownie-points and defeat the hamper full of laundry. Enter Poop Whisperer!
OP: CAKE! Laundry room. NOW!
I can, no shit, trace the potato-body movements. I hear him jump off his bed. The patter of Fred Flintstone feet are now clogging down the hallway to the stairs. I hear the first couple stairs and then the distinct sound of a plump toddler ass ride at least four to six stairs and then grace the first landing. (Laughing) "Whoops." The extremities sound to be in working order still. No "Patient First" visits. Huge win. He then jumps off the second landing, clearing another set of stairs, and crashes into the wall. I make eye contact with the savage. He smiles. I hold steady with my stoic face, but inside I am scared he is a superhuman with a ridiculous combination of powers: strength and stupidity. Does he get up and run to me? Nope. He hikes his ass in the air, and then bear-crawls across the floor with is tongue out. Fuck, I think he is rabid and wants to eat me. Do I ready the hamper for combat? Nope, I was too stunned, and I just let it play out. Tarzan is now in front of me!
Cake: What?
OP: You need to pay attention when you put your clothes on. You put your underwear on backwards yesterday.
Cake: No I didn't
OP: (Big-eyed-dumb-face.) Really? Then why does Donatello (Ninja Turtle Underwear) have a racing stripe across his forehead?
He moves in to examine the evidence. It is pretty substantial. He was either prairie-dogging and poo-streaked poor Donatello, or more likely, failed to adequately clean the balloon-knot (Asshole). He was caught brown handed.
Cake: (Head hung low) Sorry!
He thought it was over. He turned to walk away, but I caught him before he went full-on Road Runner and beep-beeped his way upstairs.
OP: Wait!
Cake: What?
Wow! Cake was stunned. He was puzzled. I could only imagine what he was thinking. "Does dad spy on me when I poop? Are there cameras in my room? Is Dad the Poop Whisperer? I think he is!" He needed to know!
Cake: How do you know?
OP: Come here. See these little "DOTS?"
Cake: Yeah!
OP: That is YOU, sticking your finger in, or near your butt-hole and twist-scratching your ass! Learn to wipe and stop doing that.
Cool. I just dispensed some "truth" to Cake. I, again, did my parental duty, and imparted so sound advice. Lesson learned. I thought we were going to move on with our lives. I thought this was over. I added the clothes to the laundry and started the washing machine. It was time to rest and watch some television, but my presence was immediately demanded by Cake.
Cake: DAD! I need your help in the bathroom.
Fuck. I am mentally picturing an overflow of water. Did he buy too many shit-tickets and clog the the toilet? I thought it was a time time to sprint! I make my upstairs and see his bathroom door is open. I am almost there and my fear grows with each stair I conquer. I finally make my way to the bathroom and round the wall the shower hides behind. Does anyone want to take a guess as to what greeted me? Anyone? If you answered: Cake with his hands around his ankles, butt cheeks spread, and ass in the air, YOU ARE CORRECT!
Cake: Is this clean Daddy?
My God. Welp, I was there, so I might as well check.
OP: Yes. Good job Cake. However, you don't have to ask Mommy or Daddy after you wipe your butt. Just remember what that wipe felt like and please repeat the process.
Cake: Okay! Was that gross Daddy?
OP: Ah. Yeah. Kinda. I actually don't want to ever see you like that again.
Cake: Okay. Is your butt clean Daddy?
OP: Yes. Mine is watertight and as clean as a whistle.
We had finally succeeded in our quest. It was late Saturday night now, and I knew at least two-thirds of the assholes in the house were watertight and as clean as whistles. I was now the Poo Whisperer. It was my first, and last case. Before we get crazy in the comments I would like to let everyone know that I will not, for any amount of money, come inspect any butt-holes. Not without full payments up front of course. We can talk rates later.
Cheers Fuckery Peeps!
submitted by SloppyEyeScream to FuckeryUniveristy [link] [comments]

2020.08.28 22:21 VoltGO Spy pooping


0:00 intro
2:23 t pose
2:35 left t pose
2:49 right t pose
3:49 shorts "adjustment"
4:08 adjusts hair
4:31 looks around, rolls
5:49 buttslap
6:05 combat stance, sideways roll
7:00 "where's my cane?" old man voice, random lines
7:25 "jinny broke this!"
9:01 calls/whistles for robe "robe,where are you robe?"
10:02 "oh I found it" "look that's why you don't give up"
10:39 putting on a robe
11:06 "where'd it go!" "I just ha....oh"
11:49 old man walking "hello traveler how are you?"
12:04 looking around old man, walking forward "hello there traveler, i come to you from a distant land"
13:28 "hello traveler how are you?" with hood
13:44 FRICK!
14:05 old man with hood full speech
14:42 KKona rant with robe on
15:23 sideways (right) casting spells
15:38 second spell
16:06 hands up, slams staff down from the right
16:34 "what am I doing...with my life"
17:20 "i see what you're sayin"
17:43 laughs
17:51 old man speech, fucks up
18:03 old man speech, "the people of the colony..."
18:56 clears throat
19:24 walks up, "stay a while and listen..."
20:21 gets hit as old man (multiple), right facing
21:00 old man hit and dies, left facing
21:34 pace around menacingly
23:43 drinks poison and dies, gets up "I'M ALIVE" strips off robe
24:49 bends over, butt towards camera
25:32 hair flick from below cam
25:40 hair flick below cam "sorry didn't see you there"
25:57 hair flick below cam sorry take 2
26:16 "I'm about to frickin... i'm about to poop in your mailbox"
26:37 "I was gonna resub. You're about to get a poopy resub"
27:20 takes out phone to look at it
27:54 looks around, looks towards camera "HOOOOH!"
27:58 laughs"so stupid. I'm tryin' to make it stupid"
28:07 "was that stupid enough?"
28:12 walks away from cam
28:15 "ready" clap
28:23 looks to camera "what the crap is that?" surprised
28:36 looks at camera "thanks"
28:46 looks to camera "what the crap is this" surprised
29:18 looks at camera "the poops accelerates"
29:41 "these pretzels are making me thirsty"
31:17 "welcome champions to the trial of the crusader" with ashbringer
32:53 "champions look alive..." with ashbringer
33:27 "your skill and cunning will prove to be a powerful weapon..."
34:34 "divine storm" moving from right to left side of screen
35:08 "divine storm" in place
35:15 "oh, I'm dizzy"
35:29 "gimme a second"
37:25 bouncer standing around
37:35 bouncer looking around
37:50 bouncer hands on hips "let's see some id"
38:14 bouncer "whoa hold on there. you think you can come into a place like this? No shot...."
39:12 bouncer walks in from left, lets people in, stops others
40:08 walking forward towards camera (in place)
40:20 strutting towards camera (in place)
40:37 walking to the left (in place)
40:52 strutting to the left (in place)
41:07 walking towards right (in place)
41:26 strutting to the right (in place)
41:49 "I dance everywhere I walk"
42:10 climbing up ladder (facing camera)
42:34 climbing up ladder (away from camera)
43:15 "water break" drinks water "ahhhh"
43:31 "smoke em if you got em boys"
43:36 "hey, no smoking. I have asthsma"
43:58 tilt head, shakes dandruff
44:23 walking away from camera
44:44 strutting away from camera
45:01 running towards camera (in place)
45:15 running towards camera scared (in place)
45:30 running towards camera scared take 2
45:58 running to the left scared (in place)
46:27 running to the right scared (in place)
46:37 "shorts were comin' down that time"
46:50 slow mo run towards the camera
47:04 to camera "I watched a lot of Baywatch. Amazon Prime video."
48:10 fiddles with shorts "these shorts. the cable came out of them. not the cable, but the wire. not the wire, the (whistles)...the string"
48:32 skiing
48:53 naruto run right
49:12 naruto arm warm-up
49:27 naruto run right take 2
49:49 "I'm starting to feel it dude. I'm startin'ta get a little hot and sweaty"
50:01 naruto run left
51:04 crouching on right knee towards camera
51:20 crouching to the left
52:15 squat stare at camera, says "nice"
53:07 comes up from bottom of screen, says "nice"
53:28 "now that's what i'm talking about..." points away from cam
53:48 look away, "mods ban this guy" rant
54:49 "yeah, why don't you take a seat right over there"
54:57 (sigh) "I'm gonna have to ask you to sit down sir"
55:04 "Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to sit down and lower your voice"
55:19 "right this way, sir"
56:14 officer Esfand radio into HQ
56:46 "we got a code red, we need all units"
57:06 listening to story "uh huh. Sure thing, bud. That's a likely story..."
57:40 "mmm now that's food. This is probably the most delicious thing that I've ever seen"
58:22 "mmmm tasty" (multiple takes)
58:34 "I am a monument to all your sins"
58:48 "I do everything all night"
59:35 "hmm" turns towards camera in chair
59:49 "Well well well. Imagine seeing you here" turns to camera in chair
1:00:07 "Never did I think that you would come back and show your face here" turns to camera in chair
1:00:30 docSpin
1:00:51 docSpin
1:01:15 "this will protect me from the storm but you will be consumed"
1:01:57 lifting something heavy, walking to the right
1:02:43 "yo are you guys coming to sawcon" looking to right
1:02:53 "hey are you guys coming to sawcon" towards cam
1:03:06 fishing "hey, look at this guy. Not bad, not bad"
1:03:44 "I'm not doin' that"
1:04:34 "this is not a knife, this is a knife" pulls out ashbringer
1:05:30 cowboy walks to right, pulls out gun
1:06:09 cowboy walks to left, "this town ain't big enough for the two of us"
1:06:38 walks away from camera, jumps and spins around, draws guns
1:06:55 same as above but turns and shoots guns
1:08:06 digging a hole and burying something
1:09:22 walking on moon
1:11:08 walks to left, shot by arrow
1:11:26 walks to left, shot by arrow take 2
1:12:23 attacked by bees
1:13:10 fish flopping on the ground
1:14:11 stealth kill
1:14:45 falling
1:14:56 falling take 2
1:15:04 falling take 3
1:15:19 grabs butt "oh frick. glute cramp. oooh, gotta squeeze it out. frick"
1:15:47 punching and kicking to the right
1:16:04 punching and kicking to the left
1:17:02 thumbs up as falls into lava
1:17:43 "wait, where is my lightsaber? what you guys do with my lightsaber? who took it?"
1:19:13 dark souls movements with lightsaber
1:19:37 "can you see the base?"
1:19:59 looks around, draws sword, does spins, walks towards camera
1:20:41 "hello there" from left
1:20:51 "well hello there" from right
1:21:12 "hello there" from left with lightsaber
1:21:23 "hello there" from right with lightsaber
1:21:48 kamehameha
1:22:37 "i'm not usually into this stuff but this really gets my water boiling"
1:23:56 riding horse
1:24:08 "it's ok. it's not mine, it's Jinny's"
1:24:14 riding horse take 2
1:24:34 "she doesn't need it anymore"
1:25:12 acting like a horse
1:30:36 tier 4 (Jinny) dance
1:30:57 tier 4 dance take 2
1:31:23 tier 4 dance take 3
1:31:45 tier 4 dance take 4
1:32:40 tier 4 dance take 5
1:33:35 tier 4 dance take 6
1:35:43 donoWall
1:36:17 donoWall take 2
1:37:50 mizkif quotes
1:38:10 catch bullet being shot
1:38:30 catch bullet being shot take 2
1:39:16 "I'M STUCK IN A TREE"
1:39:34 walk in a circle
1:40:00 crawling around
1:41:19 squatting (right)
1:41:35 squatting (left)
1:43:00 flying kick
1:43:59 m'lady tips hat
1:44:49 ring around the rosey
1:45:14 TriDance
1:46:11 ameno stuff, "i am among you"
1:47:11 bubble hearth
1:47:43 hammer dance
1:48:43 salsa dancing
1:49:49 snowball fight
1:50:29 complaining to upstairs neighbors
1:50:56 "yo miz" (right)
1:51:01 "yo miz" (to camera)
1:51:58 stuck in dryer
1:53:16 suntanning
1:54:11 "is that a good idea? i feel like this is a bad idea"
1:55:15 capoeira
1:55:43 somersault
1:56:07 capoeira and somersault
1:56:55 "i'm not at the beach! this is a bathtub"
1:57:33 someone slams door in your face
1:58:14 arrested by police
1:58:52 pushback then hammer of wrath
1:59:09 "trash ass spell"
1:59:56 another death animation
2:00:27 stepped in something gross
2:00:52 skateboarding
2:01:46 trump impersonation
2:02:06 trump take 2
2:02:47 trump take 3
2:05:41 jojo poses
2:07:06 catches spell from above
2:07:56 spell from above catches it again
2:09:38 hero landing from the left
2:10:28 hero landing from the left take 2
2:11:04 waking up from bad dream
2:11:27 driving a car, doing the "what is love" head bob
2:12:14 fixing car and changing tire
2:13:29 mime
2:14:26 squadHips
2:14:38 monkey
2:15:30 more monkey, banging chest
2:16:05 spying on someone
2:16:34 creepychamp
2:16:55 mario jump
2:17:17 fall guys running
2:18:43 scuffed motivational speech
2:19:11 motivational speech take 2
2:20:09 (sir, this is a wendy's)"oh my bad. can I get aaaa 6 pc. spicy nuggets?"
2:20:35 "CHARGE!" away from camera
2:20:42 "CHARGE!" toward camera
2:21:18 dancing
2:22:03 rise from the grave
2:22:32 "My name is Esfand. I'm an idiot"
2:23:39 "guys look it's not a sex cult"
2:24:19 billy garage
2:24:58 "hey get out of that jabroni outfit you got on there"
2:25:19 jinny dono thanks
2:26:40 teacher "okay class, show video" looks away from cam
2:27:38 more teacher stuff
2:28:41 holding loved one in arms, crying "WHYYYYYY?"
2:29:11 "hey happy birthday X"
2:30:24 english accent "i must say i do like what i see"
2:31:29 english accent take 2 - 4
2:32:41 aussie accent "crikey that thing is massive"
2:33:22 texas accent talking about a texas accent
2:34:32 jersey accent "i'm walkin here" rant
2:35:12 "you wanna disrespect my cousin joey?" rant
2:25:31 spinning a pizza
submitted by VoltGO to EsfandTV [link] [comments]

2020.08.26 19:54 pumpkinsmurf2 Spy pooping

Commenced on time, regular a.m. route, regular a.m. direction. Best day ever.
Jackrabbit poop secretly scooped from sidewalk, no admonishments from human to “let’s go”, so concealment techniques are effective. No need for improvement.
Suspicious male human found sitting on curb at the car food station. Tried to switch walk sides to get closer inspection and perform a sneak attack if deemed threatening. Human denied attempts. Gave “let’s go” instructions. Worst day ever. In future, will apply extra sneak in my investigations. My services will not be denied.
Dead skunk from two a.m. walks ago is still on roadside. Best day ever. Human allowed extra time checking and leaving my correspondences in this area, but not as much time as good boy wants.
Sensing the end of the route near the pee fence, I initiated slowest pace ever in order to clock some over-time, especially necessary as human began looking hurried. Bestest day! I found a ground snack! Knowing human would deny access AGAIN, I attempted snack concealment with a tree branch. Deception was noticed by human. Snack (mostly) forcefully removed from my mouth. Still got a little bite. Will check back later for more snackles.
Nearing MY house, I spied an evil jackrabbit. Alerted human with ears and tail (simultaneously, per protocol) that pursuit MUST be given. Permission denied. Next time I will bark. My sensibilities are wounded. Must recover from these rebukes by napping all day.
End of Report
submitted by pumpkinsmurf2 to walkiesreport [link] [comments]

2020.08.26 17:40 welcometosouthapp Spy pooping

Wednesday, August 26th, 2020
After a ten-day cheese binge, Gigi had gained ten pounds.
That didn’t stop Frank, the Italian Stallion, from picking her up and pinning her to the dorm room wall. They began making out in their underwear for the first time.
“Um...do you have a condom?” Gigi whispered as Frank lifted her up.
“But soft, my dear! Why, I carry the finest lambskins in the land. Made from the intestines of the most supple virgin sheep.”
Frank squeezed her thighs while sliding his tongue down her throat. But after holding her up for so long, his arms began to tremble.
“Maybe we can take it on the bed?” Gigi laughed nervously. “I guess I’m well on the way to the Freshman 15. Woo-hoo!”
Frank tossed the 130-pound Gigi onto the beanbag chair. He straddled her, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra.
“On second thought, maybe not,” Gigi mouthed, gently pushing his hands away.
“But ask you did - did you not?”
“I...I like you, Frank,” Gigi admitted. “But on a sweaty bean bag chair in a dorm room? It’s...not what I have in mind for my first time!”
“Woe is me! Alas, my sexual and culinary advances remain unrequited.”
Sure enough, Frank was supposed to have cooked dinner for Gigi that previous Friday. But once she’d found out lasagna was on the menu, Gigi had promptly faked the flu. Following her secret cheese dinner with Winston, she had secretly sampled nearly every type of cheese in Buncombe County. And cottage cheese, an ingredient in Frank’s lasagna, was her least favorite. Hard pass.
Gigi slipped into her tight blue jeans and white Beavers hoodie. “Um...looks like I shall depart for class!”
“Next time, shall I conduct myself differently?”
Gigi smiled meekly. “Come as you are, Frank. We’ll try sex again in three months!”
On the 300 Hall, a naked Claire stood handcuffed to the top bunk from behind. She bit her shoulder to muffle her moan as a shiver rattled her body. An also-naked Winston stood up from his knees.
“Mmm...let’s, like, totally do it already!” Claire panted, sweat dripping down her bangs.
It would be Winston’s and Claire’s first time. And he had planned ahead with the help of a little blue pill. “Ah, right,” he grunted. “I reckon I’ll go get a Jimmy hat.”
Winston opened his desk drawer, reminded that his prized fake ID collection was missing. Whoever took it, your ass is grass, Winston thought. Then, while Claire wasn’t looking, he popped a Cialis in his mouth - his second pill in an hour. For good measure, he cracked open a can of Red Bull and chugged.
“Wow,” Claire cooed, looking down at it. “You must be, like, getting ready for a bonafide marathon with me!”
“Your satisfaction is 100% guaranteed or your money back, ma’am.”
But as soon as Winston opened Claire’s legs, it happened.
A metric fuck-ton of caffeine and testosterone coursed through his veins. His pulse sank from one head to another. Target locked: Claire. She gasped in surprise. And Winston’s fragile ego, along with something else, deflated.
“Hashtag OMG,” Claire whispered, more embarrassed than Winston. “It’s, like, totally okay! It looks like we, like, had a little too much foreplay.”
Winston, dead-eyed and stone-faced, put on an old pair of Wrangler jeans and a red flannel. “I...need to give a presentation for class.”
“Oh! Like, good luck! Do you think you can, like, get me a towel?”
Winston grabbed his damp, musky shaving towel and tossed it to Claire. “Wait!” Claire called out as Winston stepped into the hallway. “You forget the-”
The door slammed.
“-Handcuff key.” Alone in Winston’s room, she stared at the key on his desk. “Hey, Siri!” she called out to her iPhone. “Call the Italian Stallion on speaker.”
Frank answered. “Ah, Claire: the woman with fire in thy loins. Shan’t you be in class at this time?”
“You’re, like, too silly! Mornings are for sobering up, not classing. Anywho, Winston I and totally ended our morning...prematurely.”
“Methinks you and Winston hath made more progress than Gigi and yours truly.”
“Aw, you poor thing!” Claire teased, sticking out her lower lip. “Tell you what. My hands are, like, tied right now. Hashtag literally! Wanna come up to Winston’s room and take advantage of me?”
At 8 AM Econ class, Jacky, Tai, Sarah, and Evelyn sat in the back of the massive lecture hall. While the professor rambled on about exponential growth, Jacky flipped through the binder of fake IDs.
“On the real, we’re not selling fake IDs,” Jacky declared, pulling out an one that favored the Latina teaching assistant. “We’re selling freedom, the way God always intended it.”
“Well put, Cali,” said Sarah. “Looks like you’ve dethroned Frank as the poet in our posse.”
“Whoa, let’s not get crazy,” Tai chuckled. “Unlike us peasants, Francisco is a Sicilian king.”
“If you love him so much, why don’t you just marry him, broseph,” Jacky snapped. Tai looked down like a shameful dog. Jacky held his grey-eyed stare like an Olympian. Finally, he burst out into laughter. “I’m just dogging you, scaredy-cat! Gotta keep you on your toes or this college junk will get stale.”
“College fucking sucks,” Evelyn chimed in, cranking the volume on her Mickey Avalon song. “It’s all a scam.”
The charismatic Jacky swiped an ID of a girl who looked like a preppy version of Evelyn. “Sounds like you need a new perspective, dudette. In college, you can be anybody you want to be. On the real, that’s why in the past 10 days, I’ve sold 25 IDs alone.”
Tai raised his eyebrows. “Twenty-fucking five? Not too shabby.”
“Oh, did I say 25? I meant that I sold 25 IDs to people in this room alone. Heck, the real total is somewhere around...200.”
Their jaws were on the floor. Jacky pulled out a roll of 100-dollar bills from his cargo shorts. He fanned the cash, then divvied a few bills to each of them.
“That’s 500 apiece each,” Jacky declared. “Just as a show of good faith that this operation won’t be a waste of our time.”
“Holy shit,” Sarah whispered, stuffing the money in her purse. “That’s almost enough goddamn cash for...half a textbook!”
“True that, but God’s last name is not damn,” Jacky hissed.
“Wait, how much money have you made so far?” Tai asked, reaching down and holding Jacky’s hand.
Plenty more,” Jacky whispered, inviting them to get close. “Look at all of God’s lost sheep in this room. Investing all this time and money to make this kind of money appear. Heck, we can do it much faster, dude and dudettes. We can take our operation straight to Beleavers.”
Jacky was referring to the Methodist youth group that met in the Chadwick Learning Center each Wednesday. Students of all faiths, colors, creeds, and M.O.’s were welcome - if only for the campus-renowned free popcorn.
“Ugh, organized religion is a farce,” Evelyn groaned, putting her headphones back in.
“Then you should have no problem taking their money,” Sarah said, yanking her earbud out.
“Exactamundo,” Jacky declared as the professor dismissed class. “Just picture all those students walking around with Mommy and Daddy’s tithe money. All we need to do is earn their business. Let’s get there early tonight and set up a vendor table. Sarah, Evelyn: we need a front. What can you sell?”
“I can sell my collection of human bones from my graveyard raids,” Evelyn offered casually.
They all stared at Evelyn in silence. “H-how about we make homemade bath bombs instead?” Sarah suggested casually.
“Perfect,” Jacky declared. “Tai and I will go to the dorm kitchen and whip up some baked goods. They’ll come for the snacks and leave with new identities.”
“Gravy,” Sarah said, flashing a peace sign. “Now, Evelyn and I have a rematch to settle.”
“Mario Kart?” Tai asked.
“Nah, grappling on the quad.” Sarah snatched Evelyn in a headlock and tickled her stomach. Evelyn burst out laughing, then tapped out. The two friends left the lecture hall.
“On the real, your hippie friend has a lot of nerve leading her on like that,” Jacky said, packing up his books.
“Eh, Sarah’s made it clear that she doesn’t like girls. Or...anybody for that matter.”
“Well, from one gay to another: Sarah’s full of horse crap.”
“Dude, they’re friends! And Evelyn’s not holding out for anything more.”
Jacky cocked his head as the last few students left the lecture hall. “What about us, Tai? Are we just friends?”
Tai leaned in to kiss him. Jacky kissed back harder, slipping his hand beneath Tai’s nylon shorts. Tai tossed his head back, pacing his breaths.
“Try to hold out as long as you can,” Jacky whispered, nibbling his neck. “I don’t want this to end…prematurely.”
“Hold out, huh?” Tai moaned between breaths. “Fuck...guess I gotta...uh, think about Evelyn the demon or something. That’s a turnoff...uh, am I right?”
“Seriously?” Jacky mumbled. “I’m trying to please you, and you’re gonna talk about another woman? Just stop talking.”
My boyfriend’s a hard nut to crack, Tai thought. Yes, it was true that Jacky had been a cocky, jealous, holier-than-thou douche during the whole class. He’s shallow. But God, his hand feels so good. So Tai let Jacky California finish. And afterward, Tai felt like the shallow one. For letting somebody kiss, caress, and fondle him when he knew for damn sure that they had nothing in common.
“And in conclusion,” said a female brunette. “That’s why multicultural cuisine is integral to improving the health of obese Americans in our nation. Thank you!”
“Delightful,” exclaimed Dr. Cartwright: Winston’s female Public Speaking professor. The student thanked her, then returned to her desk in the small Learning Center classroom. Today’s topic: Describe how multiculturalism has changed your life.
“Next up: Winston Beavers,” Dr. Cartwright announced. “Ah, quite a fitting last name, if I do say so myself.”
“Much obliged, ma’am.” Winston tipped his cowboy hat. “No one liked my last name until I became a student at South App.” He walked to the front of the classroom carrying two large foam boards.
“Oh! Somebody chose to use props, I see.”
“I was always a visual learner myself.” Winston set the foam boards up on tripods. “Ever since I was a little shit...um, I mean child, I always had a knack for pictures instead of words. I reckon ain’t much changed since then.”
“That’s very...insightful, Winston. Please begin whenever you’re ready.”
Two huge images were printed on the foam boards. One was a high-res photo of a revolver. The other was a simple stock photo of a 3-ring binder.
“Ladies and gents, when I enrolled last month, two precious items were stolen from me.” Winston pulled out a cigarette and pointed at each of the photos. “Exhibit A: my Colt Single Action Army revolver, gifted to me by my daddy. And Exhibit B: a top-secret binder, gifted to me by the fine folks from Beta Delta Epsilon.”
“Who’s got big dicks? We’ve got big dicks!” chanted a few BDE pledges in the back of the class.
“Don’t you forget it. Uh, anyway, I say all this to say: multiculturalism has impacted my life because it was statistically somebody of a certain race who stole these items from me.”
“Mister Beavers, I must stop you as this is highly inappropriate!” blurted out the professor’s teaching assistant.
“Let...let him continue,” Dr. Cartwright muttered, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Mister Beavers, I do presume you have...dare I say, a valuable theme in your speech?”
“I humbly assure you, I do,” replied Winston tipping his cowboy hat. “I reckon you’re gonna wanna listen to what I’m fixin’ to say.”
Down at the other end of the Student Center, Gigi donned goggles and rubber gloves while she weighed silver nitrate powder on a scale.
“Everybody make sure that your scale is switched to grams!” cautioned Dr. Spivey: a wild white-haired mad scientist. “And before anybody asks: no, I will not help you cook meth in an RV! I will, however, give you a list of Asheville’s finest marijuana dealers...for a price.”
Gigi added the powder to a volumetric flask. Then, she unzipped her bookbag and grabbed a bottle of distilled water. She slowly poured the water into the flask, swirling the mixture around.
“Smart, smart, smart!” Dr. Spivey praised Gigi. “Why, I see somebody brought their own water. Now, I think I know why. But please humor me.”
“Gladly!” Gigi obliged, swirling the flask until the silver nitrate dissolved completely. “Well, Professor, I opted to access my personal inventory in hopes of bypassing a lengthy dihydrogen monoxide queue! Translation: look at that line!”
Sure enough, a long line of students stood with flasks in hand, waiting to use the tap of distilled water. Dr. Spivey flipped through his attendance roster. “Ah, you’re my pre-dental student: Ji-hye.” He pronounced it incorrectly as Gee-Hi.
“Oh, it’s actually pronounced Gee-Hey. But my real name’s caused so much...um, confusion that most people call me Gigi now.”
“I see. That’s quite unfortunate. Having to change your name all because of someone else.”
Before Gigi could respond, a frat boy called out to the professor. “Hey, Walter White! I’ll pay ya a hundred bucks for a list of all your dealers. Come on, bubba, that’s like half your salary!”
Dr. Spivey sighed and feigned annoyance. “Ah, these kids and their shrewd business exchanges. Guess I better entertain their shenanigans. Keep up the diligence, Ji-hye.” That time, he pronounced it correctly.
After Dr. Spivey left, a nerdy hipster girl tapped Gigi’s shoulder. “Hey, check this out.” The girl raised her cardigan sleeve to reveal a dark silver nitrate tattoo. Fuck Landsharks. It was the South App Beavers’ rival mascot.
“I...fully approve this message!”
“Here, try one on you before the professor gets back.” The girl handed Gigi a paintbrush.
“Neat!” Gigi replied as if accepting party pills for the first time. “But what to write?” She stared at her class schedule, where her name was also listed as “Ji-hye Moon.” Maybe...I should get used to using my real name again.
Gigi pulled up her hoodie sleeve and dipped the brush into the silver nitrate solution. Just then, the professor summoned everybody back to their desks for discussion. “Ji-hye, Ji-hye, Ji-hye,” she repeated, quickly painting a tattoo on the inside of her left hand.
Gigi rushed back to her desk. Dr. Spivey laughed at the class, his white hair sprawling in all directions. “Fools! I saw what you did. Now, let this be a lesson in commitment. Because silver nitrate tattoos take a week to fade. Now...who wants to show me theirs? Or shall I start calling names?”
Goosebumps rose on the back of Gigi’s neck. Not because her tattoo was semi-permanent, but because she was surely about to be the center of attention. But after a moment of tension, the professor simply dismissed class. Gigi bolted out the door. “So long, Ji-hye!” his voice echoed down the hall.
Shit, did he see my tattoo? Gigi picked up the pace, bumping into students who filed out of the Learning Center classrooms. Around the corner, she heard the grinding of coffee beans and frothing of whole milk. She would soon reach safety at Doppio Coffee Shop...
“Whaaa-oomph!” Gigi gasped, slipping on a banana peel. She landed flat on her back, sending her notebook and loose papers flying.
“Whoa, are you okay?” asked a short Indian guy as he rushed to Gigi’s aid. He helped her to her feet. “Yo, did you get that on video?” he asked another Indian, who ran up with a video camera. “Hey, Miss, it was just a social experiment! See, we’re from the South App Social Club. Hey, are you listening? It was just a prank, bro!”
A mentally-drained Gigi kneeled down to collect her supplies. It was only when Gigi reached down to collect her papers that she read the tattoo on her hand. And it did not read Ji-hye...
“WINSTON?!” her voice cracked.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” mumbled a young cowboy, hunched over a large caramel frappuccino. “Are ya that surprised to find me here?”
Winston was sitting at Doppio Coffee Shop. Gigi hurriedly pulled down her hoodie sleeves past her fingertips. She balled the draping sleeves over her fists, concealing the palms of her hands. Then, she walked over to Winston as if she didn’t look like a complete-
“You look like a complete dork!” Winston chuckled.
“Oh! I was...uh, cold,” Gigi lied. She held up her balled-up fists like a panda bear. “See, I made my own gloves!”
Winston snatched her right wrist, then placed it palm-down on the counter. He reached into his pocket for a dull, rusty Swiss Army Knife.
“So what we wanna do is make a quick little incision where the thumb is right here.” Winston cut a small hole in the sleeve. Carefully, he guided her thumb through the hole to create a mitten of sorts for her small hand.
“Now, let’s do your left hand.”
Gigi’s heart skipped a beat as he grabbed her tattooed left hand and lay her palm on the table. Don’t look at my tattoo, don’t look at it, don’t look at it!
“Ugh, damn blade’s straight-up fucked,” Winston scoffed. “Must’ve been that buck I skinned.”
“Eek! That’s so gross! Have you at least washed it?” Don’t look at it, don’t look at it, don’t look at it!
Winston ignored her question. “Here, let me see your palm so I can-”
For the love of all that is sacred and holy, don’t look at it, don’t look at it, DON’T LOOK AT IT!
“I have to poop!” Gigi blurted out.
Winstons let go of Gigi’s hand. He and everybody else stared in disbelief. Of course, she was lying. It’s not even what she meant to say. But Gigi took that baton and ran a country mile. “Um...it appears that most sharp cheeses give me constipation. But ever since I ate all those mozzarella sticks, I have major runs!”
Gigi stood up, crossed her arms, and bowed. Then, she skittered off to the restroom - her secret safe in her left hand.
A preppy guy and girl walked up behind the dumbfounded Winston. “Yo, country boy needs to teach his lady friend some manners, am I right?” The guy looked around, trying to rally the cafe customers for support. “That’s one thing I hate about this liberal town. What a fuckin’ dyke.”
A storm brewed in Winston’s head. But he kept it bottled up inside. He chuckled instead, placing a hand on the guy’s shoulder. A pause. Suddenly, Winston yanked him into a headlock, holding the pocket knife to his crotch. His girlfriend shrieked like a mouse, while the young man raised his trembling hands.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” the guy yelled.“T-take it easy, man! I was just-”
“Now listen here, partner.” Winston applied pressure with his blade. “I’ve had my share of good days. Matter fact, they’ve been a dime a dozen. But I reckon I’ve had my share of bad days too. And this right here is one of them bad days.” Winston motioned at the paper next to his drink. “See that-there paper over there? That’s the speech I just gave in front of a crowd of SJWs. And you wanna know what the teacher gave me? D-fuckin’-minus.”
“I’m...s-s-sorry,” the preppy guy whimpered.
“Yeah, me too,” Winston grumbled, using his knife to flick off the button on the guy’s board shorts.
“Somebody, do something!” the guy’s air-headed girlfriend cried.
And on cue, a thin brown liquid ran down the preppy guy’s legs. It seeped into his white Champion socks and stained his off-brand boat shoes. The putrid smell hit the gasping, coughing patrons.
Satisfied, Winston shoved the guy into his girlfriend’s arms. “I reckon you best wash up, partner.” Whispers and murmurs in the crowd while the preppy boy limped toward the men’s bathroom. “Hol’ up. I reckon you best make your way to the female bathroom. Matter fact, all bathrooms are gender-neutral around these parts. And while you’re in there, you can apologize to that so-called dyke from earlier. Tell her Winston Motherfucking Beavers sent you.”
With anguish and defeat in his eyes, the lady entered the female bathroom. Satisfied, Winston gathered his things and decided that it was time to get the fuck out of there. But when he turned around to leave, a thunderous applause erupted behind him like an action movie explosion. Winston smiled mischievously. For the first time since he enrolled, he finally belonged.
Suddenly, Winston slipped on the banana feel and landed square on his elbow. “Oh, shit!” exclaimed the Indian student, running to his side. “Are you okay, man?”
Frank shivered on top of Claire as she dug her nails into his back. He lay there for a moment, his breath ragged. Then, he rolled off, breathing heavily on Winston’s top bunk. He slipped off the latex condom and tossed it into an empty cheese ball can on Winston’s bunk.
“Alas, thou hadst sucketh the chi from my body and-”
“Remember, like, no talking!” Claire reminded him condescendingly. She pulled the covers over her breasts, opened Instagram, and took a duck-face selfie.
“Ah, perhaps you didn’t get a chance to c-”
“Like, no.” Claire casually added a rabbit-ear filter and snapped a pic. “But that’s, like, totally okay...I guess.”
Frank transformed from Shakespeare to Sherlock, scanning Winston’s filthy bachelor bedspread for something. Anything. There were cigarette butts, saltine crumbs, half a stick of butter, Fun Dip packages with only the dip missing, a whole uneaten chicken wing, piss in a Sprite bottle, a Happy Meal box with a dead rat inside, three leaking D Batteries, and Marie Kondo’s The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up.
Finally, Frank grabbed a nearly-empty can of whipped cream. He yanked the covers off the naked Claire and sprayed a line from her collarbone to navel. Now, he had Claire’s full, undivided attention. She slowly looked down at the runny mess that pooled into her belly button. Then, she gave him the hungriest bedroom eyes Frank had ever seen.
“If you’re, like, going to play with your food, then you better totally clean up after yourself.”
Frank and Claire proceeded to do unthinkable things in that bed. And Winston’s top bunk held on by faith and faith alone. Finally, they collapsed next to one another. Two sweaty messes bathing in afterglow. Afterward, they snuck into the men’s shower where they agreed on two things. One: they were going to burn that mattress out of respect for Winston. And two: they were going to have sex at Beleavers that night.
“Look here, you little bitch!”
Evelyn grabbed the young, black cheerleader’s collar and pulled her across the table, showing her fangs.
“W-whoa!” the cheerleader stammered. “Chill out! I’m...sorry.”
“Sorry about what?”
The girl panned from Evelyn to Sarah, Tai, and Jacky. “I’m...uh, sorry for asking you if you were selling tickets to a Marilyn Manson concert.”
“Apology accepted!” Sarah cheered on Evelyn’s behalf. She pointed at the assorted bath bombs for sale in the Learning Center Ballroom. “Everything you see here is between 10 and 15. If you have a sweet tooth, the fine gents to my right are selling yummy cookies and banana bread. Or…” Sarah pulled out the sacred BDE binder and placed it on the table. “Between you and me, we’re selling fake IDs.”
“Yeah!” Tai said. “There’s a few young ladies in there who have a mocha complexion almost as rich as yours!”
Jacky elbowed Tai in the ribs. Tai sucked in a breath, while his boyfriend acted as nothing had just happened. My boyfriend is jealous over fuckin’ everything.
The cheerleader looked over her shoulder to make sure the coast was clear. Then, she flipped through the pages as if she was dress shopping. “They contain the new state watermark and everything!” Sarah informed her customer. “We accept only cash at the moment. They cost-”
“A hundred, dudette,” Jacky interjected. Sarah gave him a worrisome side-eye at the exorbitant price. But as expected, the rich cheerleader pulled out the bills and handed them over.
“Oh, that makeup actually makes your eyes pop - no cap,” the cheerleader told Evelyn, before disappearing into the Beleavers crowd with her fake ID.
“Mission accomplished!” Jacky cheered. They had managed to pull off just over 100 sales: 7500 bucks split four ways. Now, it was time to close up shop for the night. Soon, the Christian rock band would take the stage to celebrate God in a room full of students with brand new identities.
“Come on, Tai,” Jacky said, smiling warmly. “Let’s grab some popcorn. I have somebody I want you to meet.”
Tai waved at the girls as they watched them leave.
“I...really don’t know what to make of Jacky,” Sarah admitted. “A few weeks ago, I tracked him down across campus because I thought he was smoking hot. I mean, he still is. But still…”
“He’s a fucking fake,” Evelyn fumed. “That holier-than-thou douchelord can sit on a tack.”
“Whoa, sounds like you need to relieve some stress,” Sarah chuckled, punching Evelyn’s arm. “Why don’t we head to the quad and settle our tie-breaker?”
At that, Sarah and Evelyn left for one last grappling match to end them all.
Winston and Gigi approached the Ballroom entrance, where thumping Christian rock rattled the door.
“So...are you a Christian or are you here for the popcorn?” Winston asked.
“A little bird told me that it is pretty tasty!” Gigi admitted sheepishly.
“And I reckon that little bird was Frankie?”
“Yes, actually! He’s supposed to meet me here. But...I haven’t heard from him in a few hours.”
“Ah. Same with Claire.”
Just like last week’s restaurant date, Gigi and Winston had been once again ghosted by their lovers. It had become a running meme at this point.
“M-maybe their bus is running late?” Gigi suggested, failing to convince even herself.
“Hey, while we’re meddlin’ in conspiracy theories, I’ve got one too. See, Frankie likes to cook. And I’mma bet he’s with Claire, baking her a fresh, homemade cream-”
Gigi clamped her hand over Winston’s mouth. Gigi’s pupils said it all. So he opted to lay off the jokes. Neither either of them really believed their lovers were sneaking around with each other.
Winston opened the ballroom door and promptly caught an elbow to the temple.
“Oomph!” Winston groaned. Gigi slouched against the wall for safety. The scene was no Sunday morning gospel band. This was a Christian hardcore band. And they had just walked into a mosh pit.
“W-Winston!” Gigi yelled over the screamo vocals. But among the flurry of flailing super-Christians, Winston had vanished. Gigi bent her knees and jumped as high as she could, searching for his cowboy hat in the crowd. Suddenly, a punk-rock girl came up from behind and lifted her into the air.
“She’s tryin’ to go surfing!” the girl yelled, heaving her into the crowd like a FedEx package. Gigi gasped before landing into a sea of open hands. This “wave” slowly guided her through the spazzing strobe lights and fog.
Suddenly, an anonymous hand grazed her breast, then very deliberately squeezed it. “W-whaaa!?” Gigi pulled her knee to her stomach, then kicked the culprit square in the face.
“You bitch!” the fondler yelled psychotically, cupping a hand over his bleeding nose. “Throw this fucking slut overboard!” And, in unison, the moshers raised and lowered her body in their hands. “One, two, three!”
Gigi flew into the air - falling, falling, falling until she crashed into a table of baked goods and bath bombs. Winded, she slipped behind the tablecloth and curled up under the table. The mob raged outside.
“Animals,” Gigi whispered, rubbing her sore breast. Alone in the dark under that table, she wanted to cry. She could only imagine what Winston would have done if she caught that pervert red-handed. Maybe I should have let him keep his gun.
Gigi turned on her phone’s flashlight and looked around. Under the table were several cardboard boxes. One, in particular, was labeled Sarah’s Box O’Fun. Gigi recognized it immediately. On move-in day, she’d watched Sarah unpack a huge bong from that very box. Then, Sarah had dared a drunk Winston to drink the bong water. He did. (“Gigi, meet my brother.”)
This is...Sarah’s table? She’s here at Beleavers tonight? Feeling gutsy, she sifted through the box. On top of the mountain of bath bombs and baked goods, the B.D.E. binder sat there in all its glory. She flipped through pages upon pages of fake IDs. On a scratch sheet of notebook paper: a tally of sales for Sarah, Evelyn, Tai, and Claire. But no Winston. And slowly, her busy brain started to connect the dots.
“Holy balls,” she whispered, snapping the stolen binder shut. She thought about taking it right then and there and returning it to its bearded beast of an owner. But another thought crossed her mind.
I could leave it here and blackmail them for money, Gigi thought. All I have to do is threaten to tell Winston! The decision was set in stone. She left the binder behind and slipped out from under the table. But not before stealing a baseball-sized charcoal bath bomb.
In the popcorn line, safe from the mosh pit, Jacky stood in front of Tai with his back turned. The blonde-haired surfer had been rambling excitedly with an Asian guy for five minutes now. And not once had Jacky thought to introduce him.
“Oh, Tai Maple!” Jacky finally remembered, turning to face him. “This is my friend: Benji. Benji, meet Tai.”
This freckle-faced Asian guy gave a slight bow. Tai immediately knew who he was. In fact, Gigi had given him the full scoop while she and Tai had shared her very first cheese pizza. It had all begun on the day where the freshmen tracked down Jacky in his mail truck. Jacky had mistaken the cross-dressing Gigi with the Benji who now stood before him.
And this Benji was allegedly Jacky’s secret long-time crush.
“Benji, would you please grab us a popcorn?” Jacky asked politely, stepping out of the line. “I need to talk to my friend here...alone.”
“Friend,” Tai echoed, following Jacky like a lost puppy.
“Tai, this is just as hard for me, brother,” Jacky frowned, more condescending than empathetic.
“The hell it is!” Tai blew up, drowned out by the hardcore band. “You had your hand in my pants just a few hours ago! Were you fucking planning on leaving me this whole time? For him?!”
“Tai, listen man. Look, I know everything. When you showed up at the coffee shop, I knew you’d been spying on me long before you met me. I first thought our meeting was a...beautiful coincidence. But all along, you were pulling the wool over my eyes. But that’s okay, brochacho! Because I gave you a chance anyway. See, I wanted to save you from what you are! You’re a liar, bro. But in God’s eyes, we all-”
“I let you take my goddamn virginity!” Tai exploded over the music, his jaw twitching uncontrollably.
A pitiful look from Jacky. “I see. That does complicate things a bit, on the real. Look, you can have a quarter of my earnings from tonight’s sales. And I promise to pray for you every night before-”
“Fuck you and fuck your God! I hope you die in your fucking sleep! I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU!”
Tai turned around and walked confidently out of the ballroom, holding his head up high while vertigo weighed it down. But nobody stopped him. And not once did he look back.
Winston limped down the Learning Center hallway with a pounding headache. He struggled to keep his twitching, swollen eye open while passing the empty classrooms. Where he was going, not even he knew. He just had to get far away from that mosh pit.
“Calm, child! You’re quite a fool to be walking around with a concussion!”
Winston turned around. Through his good eye, he saw a large, middle-aged Haitian woman in an African floral dress and headwrap. She held a bible in her large, smooth hands.
“Join us, child,” the woman beckoned, pointing into a classroom of Haitian students in chairs.
Winston smiled weakly, thinking back to his controversial speech from class that morning. “I mighty appreciate it, ma’am. But I reckon I ain’t much worthy.” He turned to walk away, but accidentally stumbled like a drunkard into the woman’s arms.
“Soft, my child,” she soothed him, ushering him into the room of students. “Not one of us is worthy. But there is good news.”
A half-hour later, Winston was sitting in the front row of the Haitian Student Ministry with a bag of frozen peas pressed to his swollen eye. The matriarch, Nadia, was delivering a passionate Psalm 107 sermon to her students.
“Let the one who is wise heed these things,” Nadia read. “And ponder the loving deeds of the Lord. Amen. Now, to conclude, I’d like to introduce our guest: Winston from Beleavers. Please, child, tell us about yourself.”
The young men on either side of Winston gave him a back pat. Winston slowly stood up and tipped his cowboy hat. In his mind, it was his Public Speaking 101 all over again. But in class, he hadn’t been standing in front of all-black students. Like he was now.
“Well, like I told Nurse Nadia earlier. I don’t feel like I’m worthy among y’all fine folks here. I mighty appreciate Nadia for patching me up. And for y’all’s hospitality.”
Winston headed for the door, but Nadia blocked the exit. “Please, child. Do your sins trouble you? May it ease your soul to know that there are redeemed people in this very room who have committed acts of credit card fraud, gang violence, and even beastiality?”
Winston blinked.
But somehow, Nadia’s words did not repel these people away. They brought them closer. So Winston opened his mouth and confessed what had been brewing in his mind all day.
“Well, uh...today in speech class, I said the N-word. I didn’t mean to be ugly when I said it. Only said it to take power away from it. But I reckon I really hurt a couple of people in that class. The only reason the teacher didn’t ban me from the class was ‘cause she wanted me to learn a lesson this year. And I’m tryin’, Nadia. I’m...tryin’ real hard.”
The students didn’t come forward to comfort Winston, who now choked on tears. But they didn’t back away either. It was only when Nadia lay a hand on him that the other students followed suit.
“It sounds like you have a lot to think on,” Nadia said warmly, as layers of hands covered him. “I wish you luck on your journey. We will always be here whenever Beleavers get a little too...rowdy.”
Nadia and the students led a closing prayer for Winston. He smiled as a rush of dopamine reached the brain. The tears flowed freely, even as he used the bag of frozen peas to dab his face.
“Amen,” Nadia concluded. Everybody left Winston’s side and began stacking chairs.
“Wait,” Winston said, returning to his confident southern drawl. “Let me take care of them-there chairs. It’s...the least this poor white boy can do.”
And so, Winston began folding chairs alone while the others left. And like Jesus on the Via Dolorosa, he began carrying ten chairs down the long hallway toward the supply closet. And like all other men, Winston was hell-bent on making only one trip.
“Winston!” Gigi blurted out as he turned a corner. With his hands full, his black eye had nowhere to hide. Gigi dropped her jaw. Then, her mouth formed a pitiful frown. She kissed her tattoo-free hand and gently pressed her fingertips on Winston’s eyelid.
“One more time,” Winston suggested with a grin.
Gigi hesitantly kissed her hand, then reached for Winston’s eyelid again. Suddenly, Winston playfully bit her hand. “Eek!” Gigi quickly brought her hand to her chest.
“You’re a good woman, Gigi,” Winston chuckled, reflecting on his own moral character. Both of their faces flushed red. He shook his head, arms trembling from the weight they carried. “Look, I gotta put these chairs up. Walk with me.”
Gigi carried four of the chairs. And even then, she lagged behind Winston. “So, what’s the word on Frankie? You find him in that-there mob?”
Gigi shook her head, her long black hair whipping back and forth. “Nope! And Claire?”
“Shit,” Winston said, emotionally detached. “Honestly, I don’t expect to see her ever again.”
“Hmmm...so why don’t they love us anymore?”
“Beats me,” said Winston, as they set their chairs down at the closet door. “But if I was a betting man, I’d wager it’s because you and I seem to be attached at the hip these days.”
“Do you think they don’t trust us together? I mean, as friends?”
“Should they?”
Gigi opened her mouth, then closed it. Then, they quickly reached for the doorknob at the same time. A moment passed, and they did not move their hands. Slowly, her earthy brown eyes met his icy blue ones. Gigi’s tattoo was on fire.
Together, they turned the doorknob. And lo and behold: it was Frank and Claire.
Frank’s pants were around his ankles - all eight inches of uncut glory on full display. Claire was on her knees, snorting an eight-inch line of red-and-white cocaine from root to tip. As soon as they were spotted, Claire frantically wiped her nose while Frank shuffled to button his pants.
“W-w-woe is me!” Frank moaned in despair. “It doth appear that our feline hath escaped its rucksack!”
“Like, no fucking shit, Sherlock!” Claire snapped, brushing the cocaine off her shirt. “Do you ever, like, shut the fuck up? Like, look Winston and Gigi! I promise this is, like, not what it looks like. It was just, like, like, like, like, like-”
Winston and Gigi slowly stared at each other - sly grins on their faces.
“Um...are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Gigi asked Winston cheerfully.
“I sure the hell am, buddy,” Winston answered. They each grabbed a folding chair and approached the pair of adulterers.
A short while later, at dusk, Winston and Gigi sat on the curb of the Chadwick Hughes Learning Center - handcuffed. A fresh-faced, fat officer stood with his arms crossed, staring at the excited pair of criminals.
“So, you mean to tell me you…stabbed this chick with a chair?” the officer asked, dumbfounded.
“Yep!” Gigi piped up, a wide smile plastered on her face. “I managed to wield my melee weapon like a medieval knight, riding with the north winds until that raging thundercunt landed on her assless keister!”
“That was fuckin’ awesome,” Winston said, giving her an elbow bump. “But not as awesome as me crackin’ Frankie’s skull.”
The cop knitted his brows, taking extensive notes. “Alrighty then. Anything else y’all wanna add?”
Gigi and Winston grinned at each other, adrenaline fueling their veins. They had truly saved the best for last.
“Then, I took out my phone,” Winston started. “And I showed them a pic of-”
“He flashed them a pic of him taking my virginity!” Gigi finished proudly. But it was a lie. No, Winston had instead shown the cheaters the photo of Gigi eating cheese for the first time with Winston. And despite being attacked with a chair, that photo had shocked Frank more than anything.
Cop 2 walked over to Cop 1 and whispered something into his ear. Cop 1 nodded and pointed at Jacky and Claire. The pair looked tired and traumatized, and were hugging and consoling each other next to another cop car.
“Y’all got off lucky this time,” Cop 2 jeered. “They ain’t gonna press charges. You must have some deep dirt on ‘em or something.”
He wasn’t wrong. That red-and-white cocaine was Ryan’s signature product. The BDE fraternity circulated that cocaine more widely than Jacky and his fake IDs. And it was a much larger, lucrative operation. In Winston’s eyes, Claire didn’t want to risk Winston snitching in retaliation for being thrown in jail.
“Ladies first,” said Cop 1, helping Gigi off the curb to her feet. He spun her around and unlocked her handcuffs. “What kinda ink job is that?” the cop muttered, reading the silver nitrate tattoo on Gigi’s palm. “Winston...wait a sec. Hey, that’s your name, right?”
Winston cocked his head at the cop’s question. Gigi’s knees trembled as she let out a nervous chuckle. It surely wasn’t the craziest thing to happen that day. But goddamn, would it be hard to explain.
“Gigi, what the hell?” Winston muttered with a blank expression.
“Call me Ji-hye!” Gigi blurted out proudly. Winston shook his head with a smile as he watched her disappear into the Asheville night.
submitted by welcometosouthapp to welcometosouthapp [link] [comments]

2020.08.24 12:33 joanna_glass I finished S1 a couple weeks ago so I thought I’d make a “prediction” for S2. I’m going to watch it this week and come back and read any comments and also just laugh at how far off I was. I would need a lot more time to actually think what would happen. Most of these predictions are just for fun

submitted by joanna_glass to Sense8 [link] [comments]

2020.08.23 03:44 Redhawkfour4 Spy pooping

The Poop Spy submitted by Redhawkfour4 to HuntShowdown [link] [comments]

2020.08.13 14:26 kimmothy9432 Pooping spy

Good-bye mosquitos and fire ant bites
I detest you both with all of my might
Watermelon & berries, you’re pretty okay
But I’ll take pumpkins & apples all day
The morning air now, ‘tis dense as a soup
Immediately makes my hair look like poop
From the A/C running all day & all night
To perfect cool breezes & fireplace light
Hark, do I spy a leaf turning yellow?
Do not *tease* me like that, handsome maple tree fellow!
Won’t miss the flip flops, the sweaty tank tops,
Counting the days ‘til it’s hoodies & socks
The first pot of chili or perhaps a beef stew,
They make life worth living anew
So away with you, sweltering Summer dog days
Bring on sweet Autumn & all her glorious ways
submitted by kimmothy9432 to Autumn [link] [comments]

2020.08.12 11:19 TheFencingCoach Spy pooping

Division: NFC South (7-9 2nd in the Division)
Head Coach: Bruce Arians
Offensive Coordinator: Byron Leftwich
Defensive Coordinator: Todd Bowles
Intro: Let me Get Something off my Chest A couple of months ago, I wrote the Buccaneers 32 Teams/32 Days Post. Looking back a it, I’m sticking to my guns on most of my analysis. There’s just…one….little….thing….we need to talk about. Regarding Jameis’s pending free agent status, I said:

There's also the question of QB. Jameis is also a UFA and I'd say there's a...40% chance we re-sign him. So who replaces him, and would an aging veteran QB like Brady or Rivers really be a marked improvement?
[Sneezes in Boston accent]
The answer is yes, Fencing Coach, you fawkin dumbass!
Did you really think that Jameis Winston was a bettah option than Tawm Fawkin’ Brady 6-time supah bowl champion and enemy of Rawjuh Fawkin’ Goodell? You were fawkin’ wrong!
Admit to the good people of Aw/NFL that you wuh just another paht of the fake news media that tried to say Tawm Bwady deflated the footballs and that Bill Belichick used the video cameras for the SpyGates!
And who would have evah guessed that we’d end up with Gronk! What a yeeyah! What an offseason you fawkin’ pessimist! We got the GOAT! Get ya Covid immunity TB12 pills and shove ‘em up yuh asshole!
[Snaps out of it]
Okay, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, let’s get serious for a moment. This is the final Hail Mary of the underwhelming Jason Licht era, and aggressive moves were made this offseason, because the excuses have finally run out.
Since taking over the team in 2014, Jason Licht is on his third head coach (to be fair, Lovie Smith was not his choice) and only has a 34-62 (.35) record to show for, 0 playoff appearances, and only one winning season.
Meanwhile, a select list of his GM peers hired since include:
Big moves were made this offseason at the Quarterback position, bringing in a certain 6th round pick out of Michigan to compete with the ethereal and legendary Blaine Gabbert. Jameis was shown the door. And the result is about a case of beer’s worth of cap space and little depth across the roster. Buckle your Bucs, this is going to be a helluvah ride.
Top Offseason Stories The Tompa Bay Gronkeneers: The biggest news of the offseason was giving Tom Brady a 2 yeaar, $50M contract (fully guaranteed). I won’t be blind to the fact that Tom Brady is 43 years old and clearly on the decline. But Tom Brady on the decline doesn’t have to carry the team on his back when he has Mike Evans, Chris Godwin, Rob Gronkowski, Cameron Brate, and Oterius Jabari Howard to throw to. Not to mention, people will be sleeping on the Buccaneer defense. They shouldn’t be (more on that later).
Had Jameis Winston cut his 2019 turnovers in half, the Buccaneers would have been a playoff team and he would have been in the MVP discussion. Of course, if my mother had wheels, she’d be a bicycle. The real value of the Brady deal will be in his accuracy and more conservative approach to quarterbacking. Let’s exclude Tom Brady’s rookie year and his 2008 season cut short by injury, and Tom Brady has averaged ~10 interceptions. In five seasons, Jameis averaged ~18 interceptions per season (and dozens more fumbles).
Numbers aside, Brady’s value will come in the swagger he brings to the locker room. The 2019 Bruce Arians signing brought in a coach with a track record of winning. Brady’s window is obviously short…very short. But the ride should be fun while it lasts.
Then of course, there’s Rob Gronkowski, one of football’s most beloved meatheads. One year post retirement, Gronk put the cleats back on and chose to follow Brady to Tampa (in exchange for a 4th and the Patriots’ 7th round pick). With OJ Howard and Cameron Brate already on the roster, the Gronkowski trade was a luxury move, but will give Brady his favorite all-time target in an offense largely unfamiliar to him.
Jason Licht’s approach of building from the outside-in has often worked to his detriment for a team that has always excelled at receiving skill position players…but little else. The Tompa Bay Gronkeneers will be fun to watch. Let’s hope Brady can capture lightning in a bottle.
The Jameis Winston Cult of Personality Ends: When Jameis Winston first entered the league, I declared that his ceiling was Brett Favre and his floor was Jay Cutler. Five seasons in and I feel like he got a quarter of the way past Cutler. So how will I remember Jameis? For those of you who were old enough to watch the Jerry Springer show and see a big reveal that Cletus’s wife was cheating on him with the next door neighbor, it sure was entertaining for everyone watching, except for Cletus himself. For five years, Bucs fans were Cletus. Fans of the NFL marveled at his “eating W’s” meme while many of us cringed in embarrassment. You saw 5,000 yards and 30 TD’s. We saw 30 INT’s and 6 more fumbles.
The worst part of the Jameis Winston era wasn’t the embarrassment on-field, but the divisiveness he generated off the field. Post-game discussion threads on Buccaneers were riddled with personal attacks should anyone have dared mentioned that perhaps we would have won the football game had he not thrown 18,000 picks. But the worst of all? The discussion that came from his third sexual assault allegation (no, this is not a typo. People forget there were two allegations at FSU). Three allegations were not enough to keep a large contingency of the fan base from defending him, justifying his actions, and of course the classic Redditor “she was just in it for the money” trope.
Jameis Winston signed with the Saints this offseason, becoming a division rival’s embarrassment. I still believe he has an on-field future in the league. Perhaps, for now, the comments section will allow for smoother sailing. Perhaps not.
2020 Outlook Hard to believe that I’m now in Year 6 of writing these offseason reviews for Tampa, and outside of 2017 where I was wildly off on predicting our record, I’ve managed to fall within one victory/loss in each of the other four. The past two seasons, I’ve predicted our exact record. While Covid delays could impact the 2020 season itself, I predict the Tom Brady Bucs will go 10-6, win the wild card, and lose in the Divisional round.
Year My Prediction Actual
2015 7-9 6-10
2016 10-6 9-7
2017 10-6 5-11
2018 5-11 5-11
2019 7-9 7-9
2020 10-6 ???
Things I Like About the Bucs in 2020 Things That Scare me About the Bucs in 2020: 2020 Draft Analysis
Round/Pick Player Analysis
Round 1, #13 Overall Tristan Wirfs (RT – Iowa) Admittedly, I always struggle with evaluating OL positions. I thought Chance Warmack, Robert Gallery, and Jason Smith were generational talents. They were far from that. So take what I have to say with a grain of salt, and listen to people like Barian_Fostate who did an excellent breakdown of Wirfs and Jedrick Wills, with the evaluation noting some glaring flaws in Wirfs’ footwork and hand technique. There’s no denying that Wirfs’ athletic ability is deity level batshit. At 6’5, 320 pounds, he ran a 4.86 forty at the Combine, had a 36.5” vertical, and a 10’1 broad jump. Not to mention, the kid can straight up jump out of a pool and casually hang clean 500 pounds. I wanted to watch how Wirfs performed against some of his incoming peers in the NFL, so I watched his matchup against Pedophilia State University to see how he’d fare against Yetur Gross-Matos, 2nd round pick of the Panthers and future division opponent. The results were…underwhelming. YGM brought constant pressure throughout the game, and seemed to have Wirfs beat from his first step onward, but in the same game, his ability in the run game was eye opening (Example). But then you had cases of sheer lack of awareness on blitzes and also stunts that showed deep areas of weakness for Wirfs. One way or another, this was a necessary pick, and even if he doesn’t pan out at RT, Wirfs’ athleticism and gifted abilities in the run game will make him a long-term key part of the Bucs and a potential Guard candidate.
Round 2, #45 Overall Antoine Winfield Jr. (S – Minnesota) Antoine Winfield Jr.’s entrance into the league was a “you’re an old man” moment for us Redditors in our 30’s who grew up watching his “Hall of Very Good” father. This was a pretty pick. While Winfield is of course a safety, the very first thing that stood out to me watching his tape was his pass rush ability. Yes, his pass rush ability. The first couple of clips I put on of Winfield had him perfectly timing a snap from the box and immediately in the backfield by the time the QB had the ball in his hands. The second thing that stood out was his nose for the ball, particularly in clutch situations. As Joe Theismann simply stated: “big players make big plays,” and that couldn’t have been more true of Winfield, who had big time game saving interceptions against both Fresno State and Penn State. Winfield was my favorite pick of the Buccaneers draft class, and what he lacks in size he makes up for in speed and an excellent nose for the ball. Keep an eye out for this one.
Round 3, #76 Overall Ke’Shawn Vaughn (RB – Vanderbilt) Ke’Shawn Vaughn was one of the harder players to scout from this Buccaneer class, simply because it looked like he would have been better off with an offensive line of obese, beefy toddlers than whatever Vanderbilt rolled out for him. Nearly every snap I viewed of him, he rarely had a clean hole and was hit in the backfield the moment he touched the ball. Like, seriously, what is this? Vaughn’s biggest strengths to me showed up on tape with designed outside runs. Between the tackles, he showed little elusiveness, and a similar issue I saw with former Buccaneer pick Jeremy McNichol is that Vaughn tended to make multiple cuts before turning upfield. Not a good thing. Unlike a glaring weakness I saw in McNichols’ complete inability to block, it’s an area where Vaughn succeeded with flying colors. This, along with his adequate pass catching abilities (28 receptions for 270 yards in 2019) will make him a valuable 3rd down back in the beginning of his career (assuming RoJo is anointed the feature back). There are some traits in a RB that can’t be coached, like vision. There are other things like running upright with high pad level, a weakness I frequently saw with Vaughn that can be taught. Vaughn crosses me as a valuable utility player who may get looks as a feature back should RoJo continue to struggle. The value was there with his 3rd round selection, but expectations for his upside should be kept in check.
Round 5, #161 Overall Tyler Johnson (WR – Minnesota) A lot of the Buccaneers crew is pretty high on the Tyler Johnson pick. Pro Football Focus (PFF) had him top 50 on their big board and a Round 2 grade. I just don’t see it. Not at all, in fact. For a guy who stands at a mere 6’1 and is expected to play slot receiver, his speed and separation stand out as glaring weaknesses on tape. What I do like however, is his footwork coming off the line. Most of the time he’d beat his receivers within the first 5-7 yards off the line, but when it came to the deep ball I didn’t see a lot of “wow” factor. Tyler Johnson, I think, will be a reserve WR, which is exactly what you want from a 5th round pick. But I don’t see him as the massive steal many other fans did.
Round 6, #194 Overall Khalil Davis (DT – Nebraska) Played alongside his twin brother Carlos at Nebraska (who went one round later to the Steelers). I watched Davis’s game against Wisconsin and he looked to me like he’d fit best as a backup 5-tech. Not particularly explosive with a slow first step, and there were numerous occasions when he did penetrate the backfield but had terrible angles on the RB. Mind you, he was playing against Jonathan Taylor and a stalwart OL, but you want to see flashes of brilliance, even against good competition. Did not see anything that made me say: “this guy’s going to make our final roster.”
Round 7, #241 Overall Chapelle Russell (LB – Temple) I was able to find little tape of Russell, but one area where I do trust Jason Licht is in his ability to scout LB’s. I’m not going to pretend I know anything about Russell. I don’t.
Round 7, #245 Overall Raymond Calais (RB – Louisiana Lafayette) Calais’s best shot to make the roster will likely be as a return man, where he excelled at Louisiana Lafayette. Based on the limited tape I saw of him, I saw flashes of Felix Jones for his ability to get big gains off of draw plays in the shotgun. Obviously a longshot to make the roster.
Schedule Predictions
Week Opponent Prediction Analysis
Week 1 @Saints 27-24 Bucs (1-0) Bucs pass rush finds a way to get to Brees. Fun fact: this will be the oldest matchup of QB’s ever in NFL history…until the Bucs play the Saints again in week 9.
Week 2 Panthers 34-20 Bucs (2-0) Panthers are no doubt in rebuild mode right now. In the past two matchups, Bucs run game has managed to stifle Christian McAffrey. Keep an eye on rookie Yetur Gross-Matos. I think he’ll have a more immediate impact than even 1st round pick Derrick Brown.
Week 3 @Broncos 37-28 Bucs (3-0) Always a challenge to play at Mile High on the road, but I think the Bucs defense will manage to shut down a young and budding Broncos offense. On a Broncos note, I’ll never understand Jeudy being the 2nd WR off the board (let alone the 2nd Bama receiver taken). Best route runner I’ve seen enter the league since OBJ.
Week 4 Chargers 28-21 Chargers (3-1) No, I’m not too high on Justin Herbert, but when the Bucs play a rookie QB, I’m usually prone to pick the other team. For some reason, no matter the Head Coach and/or defensive coordinator, the Bucs crumple into fetal position against rookies.
Week 5 @Bears 31-13 Bucs (4-1) If Foles’ performance against the Bucs last year is any indication, they have his number. Pray that Mitch Trubisky doesn’t start. In his last outing against Tampa, he threw 6 TD’s. He did that as a rookie, mind you. Remember what I said about Bucs against rookie QB’s?
Week 6 Packers 28-24 Packers (4-2) Rumors of Aaron Rodgers’ demise are greatly exaggerated. It’s a team that’s just complete enough on both sides of the ball that I find it surprising so many are writing them off.
Week 7 @Raiders 34-31 Bucs (5-2) Here’s another team that is starting to form well under the cracker Mike Mayock. Raiders will be as good as Carr is in Gruden’s offense, and while he improved somewhat in Chucky’s offense by the end of year 2, this is a team at the tipping point between playoffs and an outright QB replacement.
Week 8 @Giants 37-17 Bucs (6-2) Though rookie Daniel Jones (sense a trend here?) shredded the Bucs with gusto last year, Bucs run defense should be able to neutralize Saquon, and despite a good rookie showing, I don’t have much faith in the long term prospects of Daniel Jones.
Week 9 Saints 20-17 Saints (6-3) Can usually count on the Saints and Bucs to split the division series. And once again, the oldest QB matchup ever. Put on some episodes of MASH. Get your Bingo cards ready. It’s geriatric QB time.
Week 10 @Panthers 41-21 Bucs (7-3) Will there be a season by this point? I don’t know. But I still like the Bucs to sweep the series with the Panthers this season.
Week 11 LA Rams 24-17 Rams (7-4) Rams offense is all of a sudden looking less like the powerhouse it was from a few years ago, but their defense is still nasty. Aaron Donald will make any QB poop their pants, including Tom Brady. This will be a violent defensive battle and I think the Rams will take the edge.
Week 12 Chiefs 37-27 Chiefs (7-5) For years on NFL going back to his time at Texas Tech, I told you all to get on board the Mahomes canoe. Love seeing him already building his Madden legacy. I’m just not going to bet against him right now.
Week 13 Bye N/A I have no way of confirming this, but I’m fairly certain during the bye week Bruce Arians clears out his office and runs an illegal cockfighting ring with his assistant coaches. You can’t convince me I’m wrong.
Week 14 Vikings 31-28 Bucs (8-5) Vikings remain a balanced team on offense and defense and the Zim Zamm still can’t be flim flammed. Close game here that will be a defensive battle with a few big time plays on offense sprinkled in.
Week 15 Falcons 34-27 Falcons (8-6) I’m glad to see Raheem Morris back in a DC position after seeing him work his way back up the coaching ranks. Always one of my favorite Buccaneer coaches despite his (many) flaws. I pick the Falcons in our first matchup because of one man and only one man: Julio Jones. Jones has now played a full 16 games in his career against Tampa, coming up with a staggering 116 catches for 1,841 yards and 11 TD’s. That’s cruelty.
Week 16 Lions 41-14 Bucs (9-6) I have a feeling by this point in the season, Fat Patricia will be one of the first Head Coaches fired and the Lions will be staffed by Interim Head Coach Darrell Bevell. The Bucs will be playing a team with a wounded ego ready to be put down like Old Yeller.
Week 17 Falcons 28-3 Bucs (10-6) Bucs fight hard to squeak into the playoffs, their first appearance since 2007.
Final Projection: Bucs win wild card, lose in the Divisional Round
Projected Starting Lineup & Analysis: Offense QB- Tom Brady: See above analysis. Probably Wrong Projected Stats: 4,438 yards, 67.1% completion percentage, 33 TD’s, 13 INT’s
WR1 – Mike Evans: At only 26 years old, Mike Evans already sits at 128th all-time on the career receiving yards list, and has a chance to pass [checks notes] Michael Crabtree on the all-time list this season. In every season in the league, Evans has surpassed 1,000 yards and has become a hallmark of consistency, even with the suspect supporting cast around him. Having an accurate QB for the first time in his career will be a huge benefits to Evans. Probably Wrong Projected Stats: 70 receptions, 1,213 yards, 6 TD’s
WR2 – Chris Godwin: Godwin had a brilliant breakout last season, earning 2nd Team All-Pro honors (that probably would have been 1st team had his season not been cut short by injury). While Evans might be the bigger threat, Godwin is among the most complete receivers in the league. A fantastic route runner with sure hands—and perhaps his most overlooked quality is his blocking. Find me a WR who does it better right now. You won’t. Probably Wrong Projected Stats: 77 receptions, 1,387 yards, 7 TD’s
RB – Ronald Jones: RB is one of the few positions where fans can reasonably expect instant production from a player when he transitions from the college ranks to the pros. As a rookie, RoJo was a mega dud who could barely find the field in the Koetter era. He took a huge step forward in year 2 (724 yards, 4.2 ypc) but still often disappeared in games and lacked the pass protection skills that are so necessary in Arians’ offense. RoJo will have Vaughn to take off some of his workload, but I still see RoJo as one of the weakest links on an otherwise complete offense. Probably Wrong Projected Stats: 808 Rushing yards (4.2 YPC), 5 TD’s
TE – Rob Gronkowski: See above analysis. Probably Wrong Projected Stats: 41 receptions, 614 yards, 6 TD’s
LT – Donovan Smith: Donovan Smith provides as much protection as Jeffrey Epstein’s guards when he was on suicide watch. While Tom Brady tends to release the ball far faster than Winston, the Arians offense designed for Brady better be getting the ball out fast. 43 year old QB’s aren’t meant to take the kinds of hits Winston did. Let’s hope that Tristan Wirfs is able to prove himself a viable option on the left side. We’ll be able to get out of Donovan Smith’s contract after this season with no cap ramifications. On a side note, there’s a decent change Donovan Smith will opt out of his contract due to Covid concerns. And I wouldn’t blame him one bit.
LG – Ali Marpet: Marpet continues to be the most reliable piece of our OL. Like Lavonte, a continually unheralded player who you can rely on to go toe-to-toe with the league’s best interior DL while manhandling the dregs of the NFL. I thought last season would be Marpet’s shot at a 2nd Team All-Pro, but he was passed over once again. Love Marpet.
C – Ryan Jensen: Jensen’s first year with the team was free agent bust material. He seemed to thrive more in the Arians offense and we saw marked improvement in all facets of his game last year. Overpaid for his value? Definitely. Living up more and more to the contract we gave him? Yup.
RG – Alex Cappa: When Jason Licht rolled the dice on small school Humboldt State product Alex Cappa, he may have been expecting the next Ali Marpet. In his first full season as a starter, there were things to be encouraged by and I’m a little more bullish on Cappa than most of the fan base. Though he allowed 31 pressures on 562 pass snaps (roughly 6% pressure rate), I saw Cappa’s confidence growing as the season went on. His third season will tell us what his true ceiling in this league is. Right now, his floor isn’t Garrett Gilkey, but his ceiling ain’t Earl Grey.
RT – Tristan Wirfs: See above analysis.
Projected Starting Lineup & Analysis: Defense EDGE – Sack Ferret: The Sack Ferret was brought on a 1 year, $4 million deal last season. I predicted he’d be a 5.5 sack guy and then probably hit free agency again. Just like we all expected, he went off and led the league in sacks with 19.5 (more than his previous five years in the league combined) and earned himself the franchise tag. Barrett has quickly become a fan favorite, and while I don’t see him replicating his majestic 2019 season, I still think he’ll be the same terror he’s been off the edge. Probably wrong projected stats: 12.5 sacks.
0-Tech - Tevita Tuliʻakiʻono Tuipulotu Mosese Vaʻhae Fehoko Faletau Vea: Running on the Buccaneers in 2019 was damn near impossible, so much so that the team only allowed 73.8 rushing yards per game. That success started up front with Vita Vea, who has quickly emerged as the league’s top 0-tech. Unfortunately, like his forefathers in Vince Wilfork and Casey Hampton, he’s likely to spend his career as a valuable defensive cog who receives few to no career accolades due to the “unsexiness” of being a two-gap space eating defender. So NFL, here’s a homework assignment for you. Watch Vea on All-22 if you have some time while on Covid lockdown. You will see one of the most absurdly athletic big men in the league who is your definition of immovable object. His progress last year was a joy to watch and he’s quickly becoming one of my favorite players. Oh, and he’s the best TE on the Bucs. By far. Probably wrong projected stats: 2.5 sacks, 2 receiving TD’s.
5-Tech – Ndamukong Suh: We brought Suh back on another 1 year deal. No, he’s not the player he once was (he’s even refrained from curbstomping genitals in Tampa…so far), but his attitude he sets on the field has been a welcome change compared to the namby-pamby milquetoasts on our DL from the past. Suh’s value will come mostly in the run game. His sack producing days are long gone. Probably wrong projected stats: 3.5 sacks.
EDGE – Jason Pierre-Paul: It’s [checks notes] August, and Jason Pierre-Paul hasn’t had an offseason accident. Praise the football Gods. Despite starting in only 8 games last year due to a serious auto accident, JPP managed 8.5 sacks. At 31, father time hasn’t quite caught up with him yet. Probably wrong projected stats: 9.5 sacks.
ILB – Lavonte David: The good part of Lavonte David bouncing inside last season to Will is that he no longer got grouped in the same bucket as sack-producing 3-4 OLB’s who beat him out for All-Pro nods nearly every year. Even at 30, Lavonte only seems to be getting better, and his instincts and smarts continue to essential to the defense. Though Lavonte is one half of the Mike tandem and has been one of the league’s best LB’s’ for all of 8 seasons, I don’t think he’s going to be the centerpiece stud. Keep Devin White’s name at the forefront of your mind, which leads me to... Probably wrong projected stats: 3.5 sacks, 3 INT’s
ILB – Devin “Get Live 45” White: If you’ve read any of my posts here for the last 5+ years, you would see I don’t take a blind homer approach with player evaluation. Not once have I predicted a Buccaneer would win the MVP award, nor have I predicted a Buccaneer would win DPOY. In fact, only once have I ever predicted we’d be a playoff team. Now that preamble is done, let me say it outright: Devin White is going to win Defensive Player of the Year in Year 2. What? Mikes never win, you say. And you’d be mostly correct. In fact, Vegas odds don’t even have Devin White listed in their top 10. Here’s what I saw from Devin White in the last half of his rookie season: an absolutely insane nose for forcing the fumble, excellent pass rush abilities, and smarts that put him in the backfield often before the RB even had the ball in his hands. I saw enough from him to believe his leap in year 2 is going to be similar to that of Luke Kuechly’s where he won DPOY in his second year in the league. Wherever the ball is, Devin White will be there. You’re going to see one of the league’s dominant defensive enforcers for a long, long time. Probably wrong projected stats: 6.0 sacks, 5 INT’s, 6 FF’s.
FS – Antoine Winfield Jr.: See above analysis. I think we’re also going to see Justin Evans get cut Probably wrong projected stats: 2.0 sacks, 2 INT’s
SS – Jordan Whitehead: Jordan White is the most underrated player on the Buccaneers defense, in my eyes. No, not Lavonte, because people talk about how underrated he is all the time to the point he’s not so underrated anymore. Whitehead’s mistakes went down drastically last year and he has a knack for being where the football is. Really like him and could see some big plays from him this season. Probably wrong projected stats: 1.0 sacks, 3 INT’s
CB – Carlton Davis: Bruce Arians doesn’t give empty praise, but he recently called Carlton Davis a top ten CB in the league, an assessment I’m inclined to agree with. He was battle tested big time in year 2, getting targeted 105 times and only allowing 52.4% of those balls thrown his way to be completed. He was able to shadow the best, and his 18 pass breakups are indicative of a guy with great awareness. And the funny thing is, he’s not even the CB I’m highest on with this roster. Probably wrong projected stats: 4 INT’s
CB – Jamel Dean: For a guy who came in as a 3rd round rookie, Dean exceeded expectations and then some. His first game as a starter came against the Seahawks, there’s no sugarcoating it—he got owned. But what I saw was a guy who stayed stride for stride with his receiver with little help over the top. By the end of his rookie season, he was looking like a shutdown corner. This is the CB I’m most excited for in 2020. Kid’s got a bright future. Probably wrong projected stats: 3 INT’s
CB – Sean Murphy-Bunting: When I’m wrong, I admit I’m helluh wrong, and with Murphy-Bunting, I was helluh wrong. Yes, it’s been only one season and things could still go south, but I was baffled when we passed on Greedy Williams in favor of SMB.
Non-Buccaneer Predictions for the Season
  1. My 2018 breakout player prediction was Patrick Mahomes. Last year, it was Joshua Jacobs and Corey Davis (oops). This year, you need to watch J.K. Dobbins (rookie, Baltimore), N’Keal Harry (2nd year, NE). Perhaps not a true breakout, but I think Calvin Ridley will surpass 1,000 yards and become an even bigger complement to Julio Jones.
  2. MVP will go to Russ Wilson. DPOY will go to Devin White (and if you’ve been reading these posts long enough you know I don’t usually go the homer approach). OPOY will go to Patrick Mahomes. COTY will go to Cliff Kingsbury.
  3. The NFC Championship will be played between the 49ers and the Cowboys. The Cowboys will win. The AFC Championship will be played between the Kansas City Chiefs and the New England Patriots. The Chiefs will win. The Chiefs will repeat in the Super Bowl, defeating the Cowboys.
  4. Last year I wrote: “Sam Darnold isn’t going to amount to much as an NFL QB. Not this year, and probably not ever.” I’ll repeat it this year too. But let me add one guy to that list: Tua Tagovailoa.
  5. Clyde Edwards-Helaire isn’t the superstar you think he is. I think his career will wind up like Joseph Addai’s: a guy who had a few flash in the pan seasons but never among the top backs. That’s not a bad thing, I would just cool expectations on him.
  6. The teams with the highest potential to land a top 5 pick, in no particular order: Lions, Jaguars, the Washington Football team (I feel like an idiot even typing that), Bears, Jets. Dark Horse: Eagles.
  7. Coaches who have the hottest seats: Fat Patricia, Dan Quinn, Adam Gase, Doug Marrone, Bill O’Brien (as coach and GM).
Shoutouts Shoutouts to my fellow mods on Buccaneers and NFL. It's a pleasure working with you all every day and shooting the shit with dank memes. And of course, much love to platypusofdeath who puts an insane amount of work into this series every year. Thank you for all you do.
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2020.08.09 03:52 Pizza_Bagel_ Clearing up short options misconceptions -- advice from someone with immense success

Okay, so I'm writing this here rather than the options sub because this isn't a full-fledged options strategy. It's simply about covered calls and cash secured puts.
To give you some context, I've been working with my father since September, when we started running this strategy. I've also done it with my own money and realized some things about the capital requirements to be successful writing options. My dad started with about $170,000, and I started with about $45,000. I've dabbled, but I'm now leaning toward going long with about 80% of my money. This will fluctuate, but I think it's best to start with at least $100,000 if you're going to run this strategy, and that should only be no more than 40% of your portfolio if you want to be aggressive.

  1. Writing options is risky: Wrong. It's literally no different than going long. Instead, you're just also collecting a premium for your troubles. The only risk here is singling out certain tickers that might not recover for some time. Hence the reason you need $100k or more: to be able to diversify your positions enough that you're not bagholding on the majority of them.
  2. Avoid volatile stocks: My god, this one is the most ridiculous of them all. The only reason--and I mean ONLY REASON--that you would avoid volatile tickers is because you're emotional. Volatile stocks pay higher premiums. Volatile stocks allow you to write on them at big discounts. Volatile stocks might run up before you sell the call, or allow you to collect decent premiums at higher strikes. I've seen people list stocks like Apple, NVDA, Facebook, AMD and Netflix as stocks to avoid when writing options. These are literally the very stocks that made us the most money. Volatility means absolutely nothing if the companies are good, and these companies are much more than good.
  3. What if the market tanks: Okay? So...what? People cite some quote about picking up pennies on a train track, when that was attributed to naked options. If you're long anyway, then you're in no different position. I have absolutely no idea why this is cited as a reason to avoid writing options. This, mathematically, makes absolutely no sense, and you cannot prove me wrong.
  4. Long dated options: Stop. Just stop. If you're not writing weeklies, you have no idea what you're doing. Again, math: the premiums are higher (yes, they are higher, do the math); you can better aim your strikes; and you don't have to sit there for months on end biting your nails as the market does what it does.
  5. The object is to make as much premium as possible without my shares being assigned: Huh? This isn't a long strategy. This is an options strategy; the whole idea is to make outsized weekly gains, between 1-4%. Any capital gains are bonus (though they can be big as well in certain cases). If you're trying to juggle going long with an options strategy, you're just caught in no-man's land.
  6. Writing options is a neutral to bearish strategy: Again, why would you listen to your brokerage's tutorial on options trading? Writing calls and puts works in literally any market, except for a crash, in which the only good strategy is shorting, and good luck to you on that one.
  7. Avoid writing on stocks reporting earnings: Huh? Again, emotions over logic. Why do I care if my shares get called away because Apple mooned at earnings? If I'm making 3-4% on premium--IN ONE WEEK--why am I getting the FOMOs? Why are you dumping Amazon because it fell 4% after earnings? Why aren't you instead selling another call at the price you bought? Stop shooting yourself in the foot.
  8. You will miss out on dividends: This might be the dumbest of them all. When I'm collecting 1-4% weekly, do you think I give two *hits about dividends? We once executed a daily SPY put at near the market bottom in March that netted over 500% annualized. And you're bringing up dividends?
  9. Taxes: So you have to pay taxes on money you make. Would you rather not make money? Okay then what are we talking about? Also, you can use your IRA if you have enough in there. Enough said.
Here's a brief overview of the strategy. You pick stocks you really like, and then you check earnings each week. Do a good balance of quality stocks and quality stocks reporting earnings, since the premiums are huge.
  1. You sell WEEKLY ATM calls or cash secured puts. If you're a little twitchy about the market, sell puts a little further out of the money. Let's say you sell 15 contracts. Two of them dip. You've made 3-4% in a week, so just sell cheaper calls at a strike equal to the cost of the shares. Now you can do it all over again with the shares that got assigned (or didn't if the price was flat or you sold a put). You might make slightly less this week, but with the constant gains, 1-4% per week is going to constantly increase.
  2. Now, for the stocks that you're stuck with, get creative--but be PATIENT. I recently wrote a put on BAC at 28.50. Not my best move, but now I'm waiting, looking to sell longer dated calls. "Wait, but you just told us to do weeklies." With the stocks that are down, not necessarily. That's the beauty of the strategy. If you go long on BAC at 28.50 and don't sell anything, you're shit out of luck until it recovers. At least you can sell a call. Every day I look at what a 28 call with a month to expiration would net me. "Wait, but you said to write only at the price you bought it at." Well, I've already made $50 on the stock, and plus, I don't think it's going to fully recover in a month. Now it's at 26.11, and I can start looking at decent premiums. If they get taken away, fine, I broke even on that one. But for every time that happens, far more often I'll be down on a stock for long enough that I sell enough calls to still make a decent 1-30% annualized profit by the time it's called away.
  3. As for choosing stocks, go with what's good. It's as simple as that. Would you buy Apple? Starbucks? eBay? Verizon? Great, then if it's a good time, such as earnings season or the stock is at a discount, go ahead with it. I like to look at the 52 week highs. It's great to buy stocks at a discount, ESPECIALLY when you've written on that stock before. I can't tell you how many contracts we've written on Apple. It's near a thousand by now. Same with NVDA and Netflix. We're aggressive, because we're emotionless. As I said before, volatility means absolutely nothing when writing options. It's your emotions. If NVDA drops 20%, fine, I don't care. It's a great stock, and at least I collected a premium. I'd happily go long NVDA, and in that case I wouldn't be making anything. I can't tell you how many times we've bought these stocks at discounts because you fools make the price fluctuate. Probably 30% of our profits are riding stocks back up and past where they were, then writing on them again when they fall again. As for choosing stocks with earnings coming out, the rules are no different; don't write a put on Nikola because the premiums are fat. I.e. don't be an idiot. But it's also about the price. My worst move ever was writing a put on WORK before the past earnings release. I like Slack, it's early but I think they're doing big things. But I sold the put during a run-up prior to earnings. Stupid. Now I'm holding the bag. HOWEVER, as proof of how great this strat is, though I sold the put at 38 strike, I'm writing long dated calls at 32. Why? Because I've already made over $600 writing on that stock. I literally can't lose. Same with Marriott. I wrote so many puts that, after writing one at 111, I could write at less than 90 and still come out even. I won't, because I know it's going to pump after the vaccine announcement, and it's still incredibly undervalued, but again, just another example of how even the losers turn out to be winners if you just run the numbers.
  4. Speaking of running the numbers, it all comes down to math. You write down the price you bought at and/or the strike you sold at. You write down the premium. Then you write down the profit and add to the premium (the difference between the price you bought and the call strike). Recently, I wrote a TMUS put at 108 prior to earnings. It pumped to 116 after--but I made $275. Do you think I give a poop what I 'missed out on' when I just made over 2.5% in one week? Multiple that by 52 weeks and what do you get? And yes, this is consistently reached. Last week we made nearly $8,000. Last month--over $30,000.
My father and I worked on a $170,000 account starting in late September of 2019. That was only about 15-20% of his portfolio, so he has a lot more than me obviously. It's now almost at 500k. In less than 10 months. This isn't a joke. People laugh at us, tell us we're lying. Could care less. Money is pouring out of our eyeballs. We did this before we even got TDA to let us sell cash secured puts (you have to ask, which is dumb). Once that started, late March was just a deluge of cash. SPY dailies were hundreds of percent annualized.
I wrote this post because I'm thinking about writing a book on this strategy. It's hard though because a) people need to not believe you when you've found out how to do something that's been in front of their face the entire time, and b) as I said, a lot of it is about temperament. If you're the type that would've sold everything in March just because it was bottoming out, you shouldn't even be in the market in the first place. But more so, if you can't handle volatility, uncertainty, and can't be faithful to a plan and trust that the same things that have happened in the market since its inception will continue to happen--i.e. stocks will rise and fall, but mainly they will rise--then you can't execute this strategy.
If you fall into either camp, a) or b), I couldn't care less. If you don't believe me or need to ridicule me because it helps you feel better about your assumptions, I will still have all of the money we've made. But I'm trying desperately to tell people about this, because I do think it can help give people an opportunity to get a little more out of their portfolio, add some aggressive growth to balance out the long term gains.
One final note. I started with $45,500 this year, and am now up to about $62,000. I've added a couple grand from work, but other than that, it's just gains. However, most of that is just the investment choices I made. I can't stress enough that this strategy requires a large amount of capital. $100,000 really is a baseline, and even then I think you're a little less flexible than you ought to be. You need to be able to ride out four or five stocks that have dipped, so that you can still write ten or twenty new contracts every week and maintain the cash flow stream. I've pretty much reduced my options strategy for my account to one or two stocks a week. In fact, I might just go back to focusing solely on my dad's account until I have a lot more money to play with.
Okay all, that's my bit. I needed to get that off my chest because I'm really sick of people spreading lies, myths, and generally not understanding the power of this strategy. More than that, I'm sick of the people who refuse to believe me, as if I need to make up some lie about my investing prowess on reddit. I wouldn't be the first to do that, but it's beside the point; it boggles my mind how many people will deny themselves success solely to console their ego. Just as I said about being emotionless, if you can't put money above your need to be 'right,' you're not going to last long in this business.
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