#emma pollock

[sunseekerdeluxe]

Monday Muzaks 1

Also heard this week:

The Anchoress - Versions / EP 2 Tragic Lovers - “Little Rebel” Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Cool It Down

Celebrating a return to Tumblr by resetting the count. Why not.

If you’re new to the blog or just want a refresher, these posts are pretty self-explanatory. The grid’s the nine most-played albums of the previous week -- or, in this case, “week,” it’s two whole days of activity -- as measured by my Last.fm profile. 

A list of everything else I heard during the week is usually included.

On rare occasions, I’ll even express written opinions about what I’ve been listening to, but that’s mood-dependent and I’m in one so you get nothing and you’ll like it.

There is almost always a backlog counter, but not this time around because I’m currently so disorganized I don’t care.

#monday muzaks #Queensrÿche #Revocation #mark lanegan #dreadnought #emma pollock #our lady peace #michelle branch #ted leo #ruby the hatchet

[arsenicflame]

hi <3 while im propaganda-ing u on my music taste can i recommend u not known at this address from the distant voices project? it's an album of songs by small scottish artists and it is so so good- some tracks id recommend in particular are 'rendezvous with war paint' , 'dining room hospital' & 'i wont follow him to the grave'

#this album is about. 5 layers deep down one of my music rabbit holes and it could have been even more if id gotten round to listening #to emma pollock when i found her on first edition. because shes on this too #incredible #idk listening to weird music is one of the greatest joys in my life. #fuck it keep clicking through those associated artists until you end up somewhere like here it is so fun. to me #nyxtalks #(obligatory im not pretentious about my music i also love bastille & shit. this rabbit hole began with daughter who r pretty big) #(i just really like to rep the little guys)

[deboracabral]

no one else is ever around this is the acid test that I've found~

- acid test by emma pollock

#good omens #crowley #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #got this song stuck in my head and thought of them as usual

[strawberry-nia]

Mrs. Pollock came over to hang out with Prim (…and gossip), meanwhile Roger spent the day with Emma, and it made her feel pretty special.

#ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #estrellas save #estrellas save gen 1 #sims 4 #simblr

[haveyouheardthisband]

#Singer-Songwriter #Indie Rock #Indie Pop #poll

[bijouxcarys]

𝑷𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏' 𝑮𝒖𝒚 - 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑶𝑵𝑬

Masterlist

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟐

“𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭, 𝐡𝐮𝐧.”

I looked across at Emma, who was already into her third glass of Rosé. Her cheeks were flushed from the wine and from the excitement in the air. She swirled the liquid around her glass, lifting it to catch the light as she did so. The rim was wet from where she had licked it earlier, and she ran her tongue over it again, but there was no moisture to lick up this time. I knew I would be slipping on excess liquid at some point the next day, my kitchen tiles sprawled with wine glaze like a Jackson Pollock painting.

It wasn’t exactly a huge flat, but it was what we could afford at the time. I had to hop across the floor to avoid stumbling over random items just to get to my Converse without twisting my ankle. Emma was dancing and singing to our favourite song at the time: Immigrant Song by the ever-amazing Led Zeppelin.

“I swear there is nobody… nobody… better than Zed Leppelin,” Emma slurred slightly, one Doc Marten short.

My best friend.

“Yes, I love Zed Leppelin…” I answered bluntly, but inevitably laughed at her. I propped myself up onto the kitchen counter, face to face with the mirror on the wall ahead of me, applying the rest of my make up on with attempted precision. It looked the best it could do at that point.

I was able to get a sip of Emma’s drink at one point, but not nearly enough to be as wankered as she was.

“Maria! This is my favourite bit! Ahhhh!” Emma whined, her voice flat and unsteady.

As I hopped off the counter, she started to belt out the lyrics, her voice rising and falling in all the wrong places. I could hear muffled conflict through the floorboards beneath me from my downstairs neighbours. They were once again arguing about money or sex or something else that would make them both miserable for an evening. Next time they would have to find something new to argue about because we had heard it all before.

Emma was oblivious when she got like this; slowly going down with a ship full of happy people who did not appreciate life nor each other.

It was difficult to lead her in the right direction as we made our way to the local pub. She was such a mess when she was drunk. I had no idea what I would do if I got that drunk. With it being student night, it was only 60p a pint. So, I wasn’t laying any bets on me not getting somewhat drunk.

It didn’t help that Emma insisted that her leather jacket was indeed a weather bucket. Seeing her this drunk diverted my desire to be on that level. A level that already had her eye makeup smudged, making her look like an escapee from a rave rather than someone going to get cheap drinks on a Friday night.

But that’s what we were hoping for. Cheap drinks and good company that made you feel like you’d rocked yourself hard in a discotheque the morning after, just so we did not have to be alone with our thoughts of university.

The good thing was that as soon as we got to the pub, we’d be away from any roads, so I no longer had to be responsible for Emma’s destructive actions. I wasn’t used to being the one to look after the other. Emma had always acted as a mother figure to me, even throughout our couple of years at college.

The bright lights of the local pub beckoned to Emma and me through the cold London night sky. The scent of hops and wheat beer was a familiar comfort during late nights like these, when you needed something to calm your nerves before you went home to study or work on an assignment. I kept my hands in my pockets as we walked towards the doors, feeling the crisp air burning my nose and condensing into ice crystals.

It was warmer inside than I had anticipated. The wooden ceiling tiles let through a yellow light, warming the room. People talked at low tones, some played pool at one of the tables while others stood around chatting in clusters. It was always a popular way to forget the stress of your studies, especially since it was so hard to make a living in London.

We sat down at the bar, where Emma immediately ordered two shots of tequila from the bartender, who gave us a curious smile.

To many, events management wasn’t even a real thing to study. I admit, it is a weird thing to get a degree in, but it was interesting to say the least. It had its moments. I was just glad I could break up those moments with a night of sitting with Emma drinking cheap beer.

I sighed and shook my head as she instinctively made moves on the bartender. She needed it, the poor thing. She needed a good shag, to be honest, there’s no other way to put it.

I, on the other hand, now felt very awkward. I’d never been left alone in a pub before. But I didn’t want to risk ruining things for Emma and the bartender, so I walked over to the other bar that was stood directly next to that one.

A few drinks, and I should be fine.

After ordering my pint, I turned around and leaned on the bar so that I could get a good look at my surroundings. I noticed the stage was cleared of tables. Another student band, it seemed. A lot of the bands formed at Imperial weren’t exactly original, in all honesty. It wasn’t necessarily bad music; it just wasn’t anything worth buying in to.

After 3 and a half pints, my nerves had soothed out and I was confident enough to move myself over to an empty table. I did look around briefly for Emma, but I noticed she was now sat with another guy, at the other side of the pub.

That girl, I swear to God.

I would have ventured for someone else that I knew, had the student band not made their entrance. So, I just stayed where I was, finally being able to occupy myself with listening to music rather than sitting alone and drinking.

“We’re extremely thrilled to be here tonight!” The frontman, evidently tipsy, announced to everyone. Some people had intentionally stopped what they were doing in order to get a better view. A group of girls giggled as they pointed at their favourite band member. Some people had pulled up chairs and were sitting side by side while they drank and chatted together. It had me wondering, were they anything special?

“I’m Freddie, I’m the important one who makes sure you all have a beautiful night, you beautiful people.” He chuckled into the microphone, which was attached to a dissected stand. “John Deacon on bass,” he pointed over a meeker looking male, stood towards the back. “Of course, we have blondie on the drums!” Freddie hissed, as the blonde at the back stood up. His arms drummed out a rhythm from behind his drumset and made it sound like he was giving instructions to follow him into battle.

“What a tart, Roger.” Freddie teased, before excessively gesturing towards the last person to come on stage.

He was much taller than the rest of them and his hair was voluminous to say the least. He was also extremely thin, but he made up for it when he held his guitar in front of him.

“And this is Brian May on the gee-tar!”

“Tequila shots?? Only 50p each!” A bartender held out a circular tray with shot glasses scattered out amongst it.

I really shouldn’t, I thought, remembering I had a meeting with my professor the next day. But alas, I have never been good at self-control – especially when it came to alcohol. I bought two shots and downed them almost instantly. My throat almost closed at the strong taste; mimosas are more pleasant in comparison. I was not used to it at all.

I coughed and stifled my outburst with my hand, eyes riveted on the band onstage. The four of them were all attractive in their own intriguing ways. The sound of the drums was punctuated by the enthusiastic beat of Roger’s drumsticks. He had a certain kind of charm about him that made him almost larger-than-life. But it was the guitarist who truly stole my heart away with his displays of raw passion as he strummed chords that resonated perfectly with each other. He had intense dark eyes that seemed to bore into the fretboard of his guitar as he played with furious intensity, each riff powerful and precise. I must admit, they gave other bands a run for their money.

The song they performed seemed familiar—like it could have been an old classic that I couldn’t quite remember the name of. All I knew was that it filled me with an intense nostalgia and joy all at once. As soon as it ended, I felt a pang of regret settle within me. Alas, the song that I did not know the name of stayed in my head for the rest of the night. Whatever it was, it was a real banger.

“Maria!”

Startled, my head snapped towards the voice, spotting Emma walking towards me with a deep flush to her face.

“Where have you been?” I asked her, a slight slur to my voice as she took the seat beside me. But before she could answer, I rushed over her response. “And why is your face red?! Are you bleeding?!” My screeching voice echoed around us; I stood up hastily, knocking over my chair with my clumsiness, trying desperately to inspect Emma’s face for any signs of wounds.

“No! Oh… No…” Emma shook her head with a dopey smile. “It’s the lipstick… Got a bit smudged.”

“But you don’t wear—” Hiccup. “You don’t wear stiplick… Uh, lipstick.” I would have laughed at my own cock-up if it weren’t for the fact that I was a hair off of vomiting a bit of alcohol back up. Two drinks and I had hit rock bottom.

Drinking alcohol had always been something fun to do with friends in the past – a happy social experience without any undertones of depression or jealousy or whatever other emotions you could get when you drank alone.

I looked around and saw that people in surrounding groups were cheering loudly when the leader singer threw a towel at a specific group of girls stood at the side of the stage at the climax of his performance.

“We should probably go home… unless you want to meet the guys who were just up on that stage thing,” Emma waved roughly in the same relative directed as the stage. “Oh my God, that blonde drummer was so pretty!”

“No, we should go home. I have a meeting with Professor Ross tomorrow, remember?” I sighed sadly with a pout, guiding myself carefully towards the door.

“You know,” I heard Emma coming up behind me as we stepped out into the cold air. “Sometimes I think you should just shag the professor… That’s the closest you’ll get to a boyfriend, Maria…”

That was one thing about Emma: she said what was on her mind without pity or malice, but she really couldn’t control herself when she got drunk, which made for comedic situations that reminded me why I loved her so much.

“You always take yourself so seriously, Maria… Like your life is super hard and everything… on planet Earth right now is soooo bad! It’s not… you should just let loose every once in a while. Maybe, like, try some different makeup or something. Or shag someone—you could be having proper sex instead of snogging lampposts!”

I rolled my eyes as we made our way down the gravelly street.

“That band didn’t seem so bad… I’d shag all of them!”

I practically screamed at Emma’s words, as we both stumbled in the direction of our flat.

“Emma, I think I have a thing for guitarists now. I—” I would have finished my thought, only I hurled over into a bush, vomiting aggressively some of the alcohol back up. My mouth puckered from the taste of undigested alcohol and saliva; it was horrible. The sharp smell of vomit stung my nose, but I didn’t care about anything but getting as far away from this bush as possible. Emma held me under one arm, supporting me with her softness and absolute lightness. She helped me walk out of the bush and to the path toward home.

She tried her best to get my hair out of the way of my mouth, but it was already infused with my vomit. What a lovely sight I was.

Emma chuckled, squeezing me with her arm.

“Hey, maybe guitarists are into lightweights.”

I scoffed and groaned, already feeling the hangover approaching.

“What a wonderful world that would be.”

My head felt like it was being crushed by a giant hammer. Overwhelming pain and fatigue mixed with the sound of fizzing that rumbled in my brain. An agonising groan flew from my mouth, as I stirred from my unconsciousness to find Emma placing an aspirin on the coffee table.

“Maria, hun, it’s 10:30.” Her voice echoed through the fog of my hangover. Even the slightest ray of light felt like needles piercing my eyes.

“I need some sunglasses,” I muttered painfully as I pulled myself up from the sofa. My actions had been carefree last night, but I never intended to get so drunk. If only I could take back the control that slipped away too easily.

“What time did you say it was?” My voice was hoarse from the night before, and my limbs were stiff from sleeping on the sofa. I stumbled to grab the glass of aspirin, steadying it as best as I could with my trembling hands as Emma plopped down next to me, handing me a plate with a slice of toast on it.

“Half 10. What time is your meeting?” Emma said through her own morning grogginess. I looked at her, my eyes growing by the second.

Shit! The meeting!

I quickly swallowed the aspirin and took a bite out of the toast, leaping to my feet. Unfortunately, all of the sudden movement made me feel dizzy, and my vision became blurred for a moment.

No, no… Steady yourself!

“I won’t be too long, um,” I scrambled for my converse as I tried to tame my dishevelled hair. “There’s some pasta from the other night in the fridge, I gotta go, love you.” With that, I left Emma alone.

The walk from my flat to Imperial’s main campus felt like an eternity, despite how close it was. If only I had a car. Or at least knew someone who did.

It was one of those walks where your calves burn, really burn. When you know just how long you have left to walk, but your feet can’t seem to take you there fast enough. When your brain is just filled of nothing but determination to get to where you’re headed – even if it isn’t even that important. Yeah, walks like that stressed me out big time.

With only a few minutes to spare, I walked through the double doors of the college atrium, heading straight for the lift. There’s no way I’m walking up 5 flights of stairs feeling like pure death.

Much to my dismay, when I held out my finger to press the button, there was a piece of paper, with ‘out of order’ written on it.

Great, I thought.

As I made my way up the steps of the third flight of stairs, I had to resist the urge to burst into tears. My legs ached, I was so hot that it felt unbearable, and I felt like I could faint at any moment. My intoxication from the previous night had only made the situation worse.

I managed to make it to my professor’s office, which doubled as our lecture hall. It was decorated with images and accomplishments of some of the most successful music managers and publishers. My studies for the year focused on John Reid and his collaborations with Elton John. He was an incredibly important figure in the record industry, with him being so young, and coming from a humble background. Those simple facts made his accomplishments seem all the more remarkable.

As I predicted, I spotted my professor seated at his desk, absorbed in stacks of papers before him.

“Ah, Maria. You’re late.” The scolding tone I had been expecting was enough to let me know that my tardiness was a mistake, arriving to our meeting some twenty minutes after the scheduled time.

“Yes, Sir, I apologise. I must have overslept,” I replied meekly, making an attempt to smother my strained panting.

“Take a seat.”

Grateful for the reprieve from standing, I placed my bag on the ground and perched myself on the edge of the chair.

“Maria, I have to be straightforward and let you know that I’m an incredibly busy man,” my professor began. My initial dear was that he would go on a lecture about how I should be looking for a job and stop relying on student funds. Instead, he went on, “Since I’m based in London, there are too many opportunities available but too few people to fill them. And when I’m not running twenty minutes late because of certain students…” My cheeks burned. “I am often being offered job postings.”

I shifted forwards, massaging my throbbing knees. “Really?”

“Indeed,” he responded. “What you may not know is that you’re one of our top students in the course at Imperial. Which is why I have a proposition for you.”

A swirl of questions rushed into my mind: Was I finally receiving a job offer? Would I be able to repay all of my debts? Could I now proudly inform my parents I had landed a job?

Instantly, my posture was held upright in anticipation as I leaned forward in the chair, eager to listen to what my professor had to say.

“It’s been a challenging process lately with a lot of people in our area trying to make it big in the music business, becoming the next rockstar.”

In response, I injected a hint of light-heartedness to our discussion, remarking, “Yes, Sir, that’s certainly a good way to make a lot of money.”

“It could be,” he continued. “There’s a group here that I want you to look after and get the most out of their experience. You can earn some of it back, but there won’t be much money coming your way. It’s just the way of getting some valuable experience in the music business.”

My already sinking spirits were doused further when he added this tid-bit, for I could not hope to survive off of the meagre sum. Sinking back into my seat, I could not help but be overcome by my heavy fatigue from my recent hangover.

Free work? Absolutely not, Sir.

“This isn’t exactly the next Rolling Stones here,” he clarified, attempting to alleviate the sour atmosphere in the room. “These musicians aren’t even from the music department. All I need you to do is mentor them a bit and book them some local gigs if possible.”

Reluctantly, I came to the realisation that I had nothing to lose by accepting this opportunity. With nothing to risk and potentially something to gain, it was certainly worth the try.

I had been expecting a little time to contemplate my decision, however, due to arriving late, I was only given two minutes to make my choice. It wasn’t as if I had much of a choice, besides, this was an opportunity to aid me in getting a degree.

Every single second seemed to be stretched out into an eternity, leaving me feeling weary and nauseous, my tiredness deciding to abruptly fail me in the worst possible time. The moment I heard voices approaching from the outside, coming closer, I knew I was in for a ride.

“What do you mean, it’s my fault the lift isn’t working?” A shrill voice sounded, sounding slightly out of breath, at the same time the door opened to reveal the blonde-haired drummer boy from the pub, looking just as arrogant as I remembered. I couldn’t believe my eyes when Freddie and Brian, the singer and guitarist from the night before, followed shortly after, sending my already weakened state into further disarray.

My professor stood up, pointing to me and saying, “This is Maria, she’ll be making sure you book the correct gigs and gain enough publicity.” After shaking away the effects of my hangover just enough to properly introduce myself, I couldn’t help but feel comforted by locking eyes with Freddie. Roger however, seemed quite excitable, an observation which had me instantly pondering how he would get on with Emma.

Lastly, Brian, with his hair looking like a poodle's, was standing in the corner with his hands shoved into his pockets, giving me a slightly unsure look. It was then that I noticed my throat was becoming drier by the second and that I was struggling to breathe properly.

The guitarist’s eventual smile was enough to send my stomach into an uproar, although I couldn’t quite tell if it was due to my anxiety or hangover. My mind felt blank for a second as Brian waited for me to introduce myself.

“Erm, sorry. I’m…” My voice got caught in my throat, somewhat unable to finish my sentence.

I heard Freddie’s mischievous chuckle fill the room, his voice laced with playful amusement. “Have you forgotten your name already, darling?” he teased, his eyes dancing with mirth. Meanwhile, Roger, his blonde locks framing his face, couldn’t help but join in, a soft giggle escaping his lips as he adjusted his hat.

A wave of nausea washed over me, compelling me to rush towards the bin tucked away in the corner of my professor’s room. With each heave, I found myself yearning for Emma’s presence, someone to hold my hair back and offer comfort. Yet, to my dismay, they all stood there, mere spectators to my torment, their gazes fixed upon me without offering any aid.

When the ordeal finally subsided, I gingerly wiped my mouth with my sleeve, attempting to compose myself as best I could. Despite the undeniable evidence of my body’s revolt, I fought to maintain an appearance of normalcy, as if I hadn’t just expelled the contents of my stomach.

Roger, taken aback by the insinuation that they were the cause of my sickness, voices his offence, “Jesus, we’re not that bad, are we?” Brian, sensing the need to defuse the situation, swiftly nudged him, effectively silencing his protest.

Feeling a pang of guilt, I conjured up a lie, unwilling to reveal the truth about my indulgence in excessive drinking the previous night. “S-sorry… I guess I’m not well,” I stammered, my words cloaked in falsehood, fearing the judgement that would accompany any glimpse of my perceived irresponsibility.

Brian’s voice, quiet and reassuring, offered solace amidst the turmoil, but his words were eclipsed by the deep sigh emanating from my professor. Expressing concern for my recent behaviour, he advised, “Maria, I think you should go home and come back tomorrow with a stronger mindset. I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately.”

Burdened by shame, I hastily gathered my belongings, my footsteps hurried as I attempted to escape the situation. However, my escape was interrupted as Freddie’s hand clasped around my arm, a sympathetic smile gracing his lips. “It’s alright, darling, we all get pissed sometimes,” he consoled me, a touch of laughter colouring his words. With a gentle release of his grip, he allowed me to continue on my way.

As I made my retreat, a lingering sense of embarrassment enveloped me, casting a shadow over the encounter that would remain etched in my memory.

Brian

I observed Maria’s departure from the room, her face filled with embarrassment. It was evident that the professor’s attitude had done little to make her feel welcomed. What a prick, I thought, casting a disdainful glance at him. Sensing Maria’s unease, I turned my attention back to the professor.

“Are you sure she’s going to be able to handle us?” I inquired, picking up on her anxious exit.

Roger chimed in, his voice tinged with a hint of arrogance. “Yeah, we’re not exactly easy to be around. We want a lot from this experience, you know.”

Rolling my eyes, I interjected, not impressed with Roger’s comment. “I’m sure you do, Rog,” I retorted, well aware of his intentions when it came to meeting a new girl.

“Ladies, please, we can fight in our own time,” Freddie scolded us, his tone laced with exasperation. “Deacy doesn’t like the fighting, darling. How could you possibly be this childish?”

“It’s a good thing he’s not here then, isn’t it?” Roger shot back, revealing his immaturity.

The professor interrupted our verbal clash, clearing his throat. “That’s a point. Aren’t there four of you? Where’s the other one?”

“The other one, my dear, is our bassist, and he’s more than ‘the other one’. Furthermore, he doesn’t come here,” Freddie retorted sharply, striding toward the professor, and clasping his hands behind his back. It was evident that someone had irked Freddie with such a response. “He doesn’t mix with scum, darling.”

“Fred, chill,” I interjected, attempting to diffuse the tension as I offered a warm smile to the professor.

Freddie took a step back, relenting. “So, we’ll take the girl’s number and say no more about it, yes?”

“Of course,” the professor replied dryly, jotting down Maria’s number on a small piece of paper. Before the professor could even pick it up, Freddie snatched it from him, turning around and heading for the door.

“Remember she’s an unpaid student. Don’t be too ambitious, and don’t stress her out too much, boys,” the professor cautioned.

Roger smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t worry, we only need a little push, and we’ll be on Top of the Pops in five years.”

“Five years, darling? Try two years!” Freddie proclaimed with confidence, opening the door for us all to exit. As we left, I could have sworn I heard the professor mutter, “You wish.”

“You can’t keep your mouth shut, you two,” I snapped at Freddie and Roger as we made our way down the stairs.

“What are you complaining about?” Roger countered. “One girl is going to be spending a lot of time around us, four guys. This is the best opportunity of our lives, Bri!”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “The only opportunity you think you’re getting is to get in her pants, which will not happen, by the way. You can’t mix up business with lust, Rog.”

Roger stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow mischievously. “Let’s hope she has a hot friend, then!” With that, he skilfully slid himself down the banister of the staircase.

“You wish, Blondie,” I murmured under my breath, trailing behind Roger down the stairs.

#fanfiction #fanfic #queen #queen fanfic #queen fanfiction #brian may #brian may fanfic #brian may fanfiction #freddie mercury #roger taylor #john deacon #1970s #70s #classic rock #music #fandom #writer #fic #ao3 #wattpad #wattpad writer #ao3 writer #stories #1972 #1973 #peace lovin guy series #peace lovin guy

[dear-indies]

full list of biden letter 2:

Aaron Bay-Schuck Aaron Sorkin Adam & Jackie Sandler Adam Goodman Adam Levine Alan Grubman Alex Aja Alex Edelman Alexandra Shiva Ali Wentworth Alison Statter Allan Loeb Alona Tal Amy Chozick Amy Pascal Amy Schumer Amy Sherman Palladino Andrew Singer Andy Cohen Angela Robinson Anthony Russo Antonio Campos Ari Dayan Ari Greenburg Arik Kneller Aron Coleite Ashley Levinson Asif Satchu Aubrey Plaza Barbara Hershey Barry Diller Barry Levinson Barry Rosenstein Beau Flynn Behati Prinsloo Bella Thorne Ben Stiller Ben Turner Ben Winston Ben Younger Billy Crystal Blair Kohan Bob Odenkirk Bobbi Brown Bobby Kotick Brad Falchuk Brad Slater Bradley Cooper Bradley Fischer Brett Gelman Brian Grazer Bridget Everett Brooke Shields Bruna Papandrea Cameron Curtis Casey Neistat Cazzie David

Charles Roven Chelsea Handler Chloe Fineman Chris Fischer Chris Jericho Chris Rock Christian Carino Cindi Berger Claire Coffee Colleen Camp Constance Wu Courteney Cox Craig Silverstein Dame Maureen Lipman Dan Aloni Dan Rosenweig Dana Goldberg Dana Klein Daniel Palladino Danielle Bernstein Danny Cohen Danny Strong Daphne Kastner David Alan Grier David Baddiel David Bernad David Chang David Ellison David Geffen David Gilmour & David Goodman David Joseph David Kohan David Lowery David Oyelowo David Schwimmer Dawn Porter Dean Cain Deborah Lee Furness Deborah Snyder Debra Messing Diane Von Furstenberg Donny Deutsch Doug Liman Douglas Chabbott Eddy Kitsis Edgar Ramirez Eli Roth Elisabeth Shue Elizabeth Himelstein Embeth Davidtz Emma Seligman Emmanuelle Chriqui Eric Andre Erik Feig Erin Foster Eugene Levy Evan Jonigkeit Evan Winiker Ewan McGregor Francis Benhamou Francis Lawrence Fred Raskin Gabe Turner Gail Berman Gal Gadot Gary Barber Gene Stupinski Genevieve Angelson Gideon Raff Gina Gershon Grant Singer Greg Berlanti Guy Nattiv Guy Oseary Gwyneth Paltrow Hannah Fidell Hannah Graf Harlan Coben Harold Brown Harvey Keitel Henrietta Conrad Henry Winkler Holland Taylor Howard Gordon Iain Morris Imran Ahmed Inbar Lavi Isla Fisher Jack Black Jackie Sandler Jake Graf Jake Kasdan James Brolin James Corden Jamie Ray Newman Jaron Varsano Jason Biggs & Jenny Mollen Biggs Jason Blum Jason Fuchs Jason Reitman Jason Segel Jason Sudeikis JD Lifshitz Jeff Goldblum Jeff Rake Jen Joel Jeremy Piven Jerry Seinfeld Jesse Itzler Jesse Plemons Jesse Sisgold Jessica Biel Jessica Elbaum Jessica Seinfeld Jill Littman Jimmy Carr Jody Gerson

Joe Hipps Joe Quinn Joe Russo Joe Tippett Joel Fields Joey King John Landgraf John Slattery Jon Bernthal Jon Glickman Jon Hamm Jon Liebman Jonathan Baruch Jonathan Groff Jonathan Marc Sherman Jonathan Ross Jonathan Steinberg Jonathan Tisch Jonathan Tropper Jordan Peele Josh Brolin Josh Charles Josh Goldstine Josh Greenstein Josh Grode Judd Apatow Judge Judy Sheindlin Julia Garner Julia Lester Julianna Margulies Julie Greenwald Julie Rudd Juliette Lewis Justin Theroux Justin Timberlake Karen Pollock Karlie Kloss Katy Perry Kelley Lynch Kevin Kane Kevin Zegers Kirsten Dunst Kitao Sakurai KJ Steinberg Kristen Schaal Kristin Chenoweth Lana Del Rey Laura Dern Laura Pradelska Lauren Schuker Blum Laurence Mark Laurie David Lea Michele Lee Eisenberg Leo Pearlman Leslie Siebert Liev Schreiber Limor Gott Lina Esco Liz Garbus Lizanne Rosenstein Lizzie Tisch Lorraine Schwartz Lynn Harris Lyor Cohen Madonna Mandana Dayani Mara Buxbaum Marc Webb Marco Perego Maria Dizzia Mark Feuerstein Mark Foster Mark Scheinberg Mark Shedletsky Martin Short Mary Elizabeth Winstead Mathew Rosengart Matt Lucas Matt Miller Matthew Bronfman Matthew Hiltzik Matthew Weiner Matti Leshem Max Mutchnik Maya Lasry Meaghan Oppenheimer Melissa Zukerman Michael Aloni Michael Ellenberg Michael Green Michael Rapino Michael Rappaport Michael Weber Michelle Williams Mike Medavoy Mila Kunis Mimi Leder Modi Wiczyk Molly Shannon Nancy Josephson Natasha Leggero

Neil Blair Neil Druckmann Nicola Peltz Nicole Avant Nina Jacobson Noa Kirel Noa Tishby Noah Oppenheim Noah Schnapp Noreena Hertz Odeya Rush Olivia Wilde Oran Zegman Orlando Bloom Pasha Kovalev Pattie LuPone Paul & Julie Rudd Paul Haas Paul Pflug Peter Traugott Polly Sampson Rachel Riley Rafi Marmor Ram Bergman Raphael Margulies Rebecca Angelo Rebecca Mall Regina Spektor Reinaldo Marcus Green Rich Statter Richard Jenkins Richard Kind Rick Hoffman Rick Rosen Rita Ora Rob Rinder Robert Newman Roger Birnbaum Roger Green Rosie O’Donnell Ross Duffer Ryan Feldman Sacha Baron Cohen Sam Levinson Sam Trammell Sara Foster Sarah Baker Sarah Bremner Sarah Cooper Sarah Paulson Sarah Treem Scott Braun Scott Braun Scott Neustadter Scott Tenley Sean Combs Seth Meyers Seth Oster Shannon Watts Shari Redstone Sharon Jackson Sharon Stone Shauna Perlman Shawn Levy Sheila Nevins Shira Haas Simon Sebag Montefiore Simon Tikhman Skylar Astin Stacey Snider Stephen Fry Steve Agee Steve Rifkind Sting & Trudie Styler Susanna Felleman Susie Arons Taika Waititi Thomas Kail Tiffany Haddish Todd Lieberman Todd Moscowitz Todd Waldman Tom Freston Tom Werner Tomer Capone Tracy Ann Oberman Trudie Styler Tyler James Williams Tyler Perry Vanessa Bayer Veronica Grazer Veronica Smiley Whitney Wolfe Herd

Will Ferrell Will Graham Yamanieka Saunders Yariv Milchan Ynon Kreiz Zack Snyder Zoe Saldana Zoey Deutch Zosia Mamet

#fc help #rph #rpt #banned fc #zionist fc

[artisticlegshake]

THE DANCE AWARDS LAS VEGAS RESULTS 2023

PEEWEE SOLOS:

1st Sylvie Win Szyndlar - CLUB JP!

2nd Aspen Brandt - CLUB JP!

3rd Hallee Anderson - LARKIN JP!

3rd Karsyn Brewer - CLUB JP!

3rd Abbey Scott - CLUB JP!

4th Goldie Nielsen - CLUB JP!

5th Matinly Conrad - LARKIN JP!

5th Jade Glyzinski - LARKIN JP!

5th Brody Schaffer - DANCEOLOGY JP!

6th Remington Frye - CSPAS JP!

6th Emma Kleve - CLUB JP!

7th Eastyn Rose - CLUB JP!

7th Charlotte Tracy - LARKIN JP!

7th Maddie Kulenkamp - LARKIN JP!

8th Georgia Hosack - EXPRESSENZ JP!

8th Stella Ames - LARKIN JP!

8th Jayda Cook - CSPAS JP!

9th Ava Fraser - LARKIN JP!

9th Penny Harris - DANCEOLOGY JP!

9th Sloan Ozuna - CSPAS JP!

9th Emersyn Varker - CLUB JP!

9th Hazel Ecklin - LARKIN JP!

9th Mabel Wilde - CSPAS JP!

10th Hazel Silverman - CLUB

10th Norah Hurley - ELITE FEET

10th Isla Rose Parcell - CSPAS

10th Olive Pollock - BOBBIE’S

[grandmaster-anne]

Princess Anne’s Country Life guest edit: The inside story of putting together a magazine with The Princess Royal

Country Life | Published 29 July 2020

Paula was the Co-ordinating Editor of the special issue, which was guest-edited by The Princess to mark her forthcoming 70th birthday — a 172-page edition of the magazine highlighting The Princess’s deep love for and thorough understanding of the countryside and those who live and work in it.

‘Working with a small team from The Princess’s office at Buckingham Palace, we overcame the challenges of working from home across the country due to the Coronavirus pandemic to pull together an eclectic edition that truly reflects the issues and the country people that The Princess holds dear,’ says Paula, who compiled the magazine from her kitchen table in Dorset.

‘Working to a list of features supplied by The Princess in February, we quickly marshalled our best writers and photographers to write about and photograph all the subjects requested, while adhering to social distancing rules,’ Paula continues.

‘This involved commissioning one of the very best Scotland-based gardens photographers to illustrate a beautiful, but far-flung garden, surrounding the Ruuval lighthouse on Islay, plus our Picture Editor, Lucy Ford, organising lots of individual open air photo shoots with The Princess’s nominated champions of the countryside.’

The magazine’s Deputy Editor Kate Green and freelance photographer Sarah Farnsworth were also delighted to be invited to The Princess’s home at Gatcombe Park in Gloucestershire, to illustrate her dedication to organic farming and rare breeds.

Once all the words and pictures were ready, the work of putting together the pages could began.

‘Once we’d gathered all articles and images, our talented design team — led by our Art Editor, Emma Earnshaw — set to work creating a series of eye-catching layouts, which were then expertly fitted by our Chief Sub-Editor, Octavia Pollock’ Paula continues. ‘It was a massive effort on behalf of the entire team, including our Photographic Library Manager, Melanie Bryan, who met me just off the A303 to hand over the page proofs ahead of our meeting with The Princess.

‘Having sent nigh on 1,000 emails and made countless telephone calls, we are really proud of the edition and the way it reflects The Princess’s commitment to the countryside and more than 300 patronages,’ enthuses Paula, who, along with Country Life’s Editor-in-Chief Mark Hedges met The Princess at Gatcombe in mid-July to go through the final page proofs.

The issue also includes a 2,000-word leader article, which The Princess wrote on her own iPad, in which she credits her parents for instilling her appreciation of Nature — ‘Both my parents had a love and understanding of the natural world through their own experiences’ — and explains how fortunate she feels to have spent ‘most of my life in the countryside’.

Mark Hedges concludes: ‘It was an absolute delight to have The Princess Royal as our guest editor. Her passion for the countryside shines through with every feature, combined with her concerns that the right action is taken to safeguard the rural way of life for future generations, from providing affordable housing to dealing with fly tipping. We do hope our special edition makes a very fitting 70th birthday present.’

#princess anne #princess royal #country life #article #guest edit

[justbackgroundnoise]

Emma Maltais, human sunshine.

📸 by Heather Pollock

#LOOK AT HER #how can you not love her #emma maltais #pwhl toronto #team canada #woho

[deadlyflames]

Swanfire Month Day 16: What would Neal’s job be/have been? Private Investigator

Kay, so I feel like I gotta explain this.

I’ve loved everyone’s ideas of having him as a photographer, an artist,or something like that.

But I binged watched ‘Terriers’ recently, and I loved Britt Pollock and I saw so many similarities between him and Neal, especially with his breaking and entering skills. So I thought it would be a cute connection if Neal was this PI making money from odd jobs. (Also MJR is pretty hot in this series)

Actually after watching this show, I came up with a rough draft backstory for Neal/Baelfire for after he escaped Neverland and before he met Emma, based on the friendship between Hank and Britt. I loved the sort of father-son bond they had, and I just thought ‘why not give Neal another father figure?’, the boy can never have too many.

I might share this backstory later or maybe write a one shot about it.

#ouat #swanfire #swanfire month 2022 #nealfire #neal cassidy #baelfire #terriers

[lotuscayrp]

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[arsenicflame]

RULES: put 5 songs you actually listen to, then tag 10 people.

Tagged by @izzy-b-hands ty <3 i pulled these from my on repeat playlist for a little variation from the things i always say!

Two's a Crowd - Cartwright

Atrophy - The Antlers

To: Myself In Colorado - Everybody's Worried About Owen

Someone Somewhere Somehow - Super Whatevr

I Won't Follow Him to the Grave - Emma Pollock, Distant Voices

Tags for if you want to do it!

@humblexwanderer @crustose @wolfpoets @faith-orise @kaarijafag @fryingmintbunny @origami-butterfly @trashkingtater @mushroom-intimacy @gydima

#assigned miserable my top repeated songs on spotify #i included links bc im extra- they go to youtube <3 #nyxtalks #tag games #i mean. the antlers is something i would always say but shhh #twos a crowd is positive though #ok maybe not. its upbeat ! #aro anthem (i really wanna love but don't know how)

[ratkiing-a]

@hcavcnswept / lyric starter. roman candle ( ft. emma pollock) - dry the river.

"it doesn't mean i'm uncertain just afraid." charlie tended to ... do this when he got close to someone. he was so uncertain of how to act when around someone that he cared for, someone that he liked. caelum was so nice and kind and cute and it made charlie feel all warm inside, but with that it also brought along that feeling of dread that he was going to fuck it all up. so he's trying his best to explain why he had grown so quiet, but it's hard.

"i-i ... i know i like you, and you like me. but like ... i get worried that i'm gonna do something wrong."

#hcavcnswept #spotify said 'have some emotions and a very sad song' well damn #interactions. #verse three.

[hyunjinniebaby]

July 21, 2022

i just finished The Devil All The Time by Donald Ray Pollock today. here are some lines from the book that i wrote down !!

TW: mentions of death (including suicide & homocide), gun violence, corpses, and an ableist use of the word “cripple.” please proceed with caution.

what i’m saying is that when it comes right down to it, everybody suffers in the end.

he might have killed the girl, then cut them boys up and scattered them. the one in the wheelchair would have been easy pickings, and everybody knows that other one didn’t have sense enough to pour piss out of a boot.

rich people always thought you wanted what they had

thank you, god, for giving me the strength to keep my hands off henry dunlap’s fat fucking neck and let the son of a bitch have everything he wants in life, though i got to confess, lord, i sure wouldn’t mind seeing him choke on it someday.

it had been nearly 14 years since they had buried helen and fled south. they didn’t even bother to change their names anymore.

he was certain those days they spent in cincinnati among the tall buildings and crowded streets before she took the fever were the happiest ones of her life. his, too, for that matter.

then they drove up and down the dull streets of lewisburg until midnight listening to the radio fade in and out and blowing off about what they were going to do after high school, until their voices turned as rough as gravel from all the smoke and whiskey and grandiose plans of the future.

he had killed half of the fifth of whiskey before he finally noticed that the cripple’s face was crawling with ants.

why could the police throw a man in jail just because he didn’t have any money or an address? what if he didn’t want any goddamn money or a fucking address? where was all this freedom they bragged about?

he remembered everything. it was as if he resurrected them every time he brought out the box, stirred them awake and allowed them to do their own kind of singing.

showing her the gun, he swore that he was going to plug the two bastards who had set them up; but then he went down the street and sat on a bench in a park the rest of the day thinking about killing himself instead.

it reminded carl of one of those paintings of mary with the baby jesus, the way sandy was looking down at the model with a sweet, innocent look on her face, a look that he had been able to occasionally catch that first year or two, but then was gone forever.

two young boys, maybe nine or ten years old, came speeding around the corner on bicycles just as he smeared a gob of gray gunk on the seat of the bench. they both waved to him and smiled when he looked up. just for a second, they made him wish, as they flew by pumping their legs and laughing as if they didn’t have a care in the world, that he was somebody else.

and suddenly he realized, as he stood once again in his fathers church, that willard had needed to go wherever charlotte went, so that he could keep on looking after her. all these years, arvin had despised him for what he done, as if he didn’t give a damn what happened to his boy after she died. then he thought about the ride back from the cemetery, and willard’s talk about visiting emma and coal creek. It had never occurred to him before, but that was as close as his father could get to telling him that he was leaving, too, and that he was sorry. “maybe stay for a while,” willard had said that day. “you’ll like it there.”

#the devil all the time #academia #reading #book tbr #books to read #books #booklr #bookblr #bookworm #book quotes

[moonlight-fan2008]

Moonlight rewatch for millionth time

Episode 3 random thoughts and feelings I had while rewatching again: cause I’m bored and have nothing else to do or watch. And I love this show

I like how Beth saw Mick all vamped out and he revealed that he was a vampire and still felt safe and comfortable enough to go back to his house without backup or protection

I feel like that was a very very deliberate decision to hit professor Gerald Stovsky, like that car did not slow down or divert to avoid hitting him nor did they stop after they did. They just kept going.

I like how grumpy Mick mumbles texting, also I want to know what Guillermo was texting Mick.

There’s not like a big club house where we all hang out… I beg to differ

I wonder how the cleaner and Mick know each other if he’s never needed her services. Because she knows his full name and is surprised to see him and even comments that she didn’t think he’d need a clean up which would indicate she knows him on a slightly more personal level than just word of mouth.

She also trusts Mick with the name of the vampire who called her and that would at least indicate they have some sort of good rapport with each other. Because at least to me it seems as if she knows Mick won’t rat her out and will help her with the vampire causing trouble.

Also in a later episode she flits with him and tells he can call her anytime he wants and the final episode it appears she at least respects and trust his opinion enough to let Emma and Jackson have a chance to talk and say good bye simply because he asked

I wonder what Gerald meant by other vampires find him strange. Does he smell funny or different than most vampires? Is he just a weirdo or something in the vampire community? Like how Logan is considered a slob?

It’s annoying we never get Mick’s exact birthday other than November 1922 but at least we get an idea of his birthday. We have no idea about Beth’s birthday other than a year and same thing for Josef. I know it’s not that important for the plot but I need to know for astrology reasons.

So was Gerald going to kill his little vampire fledgling or what? Like why did he bring a wooden stake to the house ? Also I wonder if Gerald had a similar issue to turning people that Josef did with Sarah because he said he’s never been able to turn anybody before.

Gerald is definitely dead so why wasn’t his name crossed off that list Talbot gets

More on Stovsky’s smell, his little fledgling doesn’t seem to recognize him as a vampire by scent because he never mentions it to him but when Dr. Pollock encounters Mick he makes a comment on it. So is that why Gerald is so unpopular with other vampires?

Can vampires drink alcohol? I mean they must be able to to a certain extent because Mick and Josef do drink alcohol throughout the series

Unimportant but how does Mick sleep with all those lights? I have to sleep in the pitch black, like even a dim light irritates me and keeps me awake all night

It’s sad that in like the 50 some odd years of Mick being a vampire he’s only had one human he’s felt safe and comfortable enough to tell them the truth about what he is.

#moonlight cbs #mick st. john #alex o'loughlin #cbs moonlight #moonlight tv #moonlight #beth turner #sophia myles #mick st john #tv show #dr feelgood #episode 3 #season 1 episode 3 dr. feelgood