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2019.09.04 18:02 cuavas Hidden cameras sex mms

MAME 0.213 It's really about time we released MAME 0.213, with more of everything we know you all love. First of all, we’re proud to present support for the first Hegener + Glaser product: the “brikett” chess computers, Mephisto, Mephisto II and Mephisto III. As you can probably guess, there’s an addition from Nintendo’s Game & Watch line. This month it’s Mario’s Bombs Away. On a related note, we’ve also added Elektronika’s Kosmicheskiy Most, exported as Space Bridge, which is an unlicensed total conversion of the Game & Watch title Fire. If you haven’t played any of the handheld LCD games in MAME, you’re missing something special – they look superb with external scanned and traced artwork.
On the arcade side, we’ve added The Destroyer From Jail (a rare Philko game), and alternate regional versions of Block Out and Super Shanghai Dragon’s Eye. The CD for Simpsons Bowling has been re-dumped, resolving some long-standing issues. With its protection microcontroller dumped and emulated, Birdie Try is now fully playable. Protection microcontrollers for The Deep and Last Mission have also been dumped and emulated. Improvements to Seibu hardware emulation mean Banpresto’s SD Gundam Sangokushi Rainbow Tairiku Senki is now playable, and sprite priorities in Seibu Cup Soccer have been improved.
In computer emulation, two interesting DOS compatible machines based on the Intel 80186 CPU are now working: the Mindset Personal Computer, and the Dulmont Magnum. The Apple II software lists have been updated to include almost all known clean cracks and original flux dumps, and the Apple II gameport ComputerEyes frame grabber is now emulated. We’ve received a series of submissions that greatly improve emulation of the SWTPC S/09 and SS-30 bus cards. On the SGI front, the 4D/20 now has fully-working IRIX 4.0.5 via serial console, and a whole host of improvements have gone into the Indy “Newport” graphics board emulation. Finally, MAME now supports HDI, 2MG and raw hard disk image files.
As always, you can get the source and Windows binary packages from the download page.
MAMETesters Bugs Fixed

New working machines New working clones Machines promoted to working Clones promoted to working New machines marked as NOT_WORKING New clones marked as NOT_WORKING New working software list additions New NOT_WORKING software list additions Source Changes submitted by cuavas to emulation [link] [comments]


2019.09.04 18:00 cuavas Hidden cameras sex mms

MAME 0.213 It's really about time we released MAME 0.213, with more of everything we know you all love. First of all, we’re proud to present support for the first Hegener + Glaser product: the “brikett” chess computers, Mephisto, Mephisto II and Mephisto III. As you can probably guess, there’s an addition from Nintendo’s Game & Watch line. This month it’s Mario’s Bombs Away. On a related note, we’ve also added Elektronika’s Kosmicheskiy Most, exported as Space Bridge, which is an unlicensed total conversion of the Game & Watch title Fire. If you haven’t played any of the handheld LCD games in MAME, you’re missing something special – they look superb with external scanned and traced artwork.
On the arcade side, we’ve added The Destroyer From Jail (a rare Philko game), and alternate regional versions of Block Out and Super Shanghai Dragon’s Eye. The CD for Simpsons Bowling has been re-dumped, resolving some long-standing issues. With its protection microcontroller dumped and emulated, Birdie Try is now fully playable. Protection microcontrollers for The Deep and Last Mission have also been dumped and emulated. Improvements to Seibu hardware emulation mean Banpresto’s SD Gundam Sangokushi Rainbow Tairiku Senki is now playable, and sprite priorities in Seibu Cup Soccer have been improved.
In computer emulation, two interesting DOS compatible machines based on the Intel 80186 CPU are now working: the Mindset Personal Computer, and the Dulmont Magnum. The Apple II software lists have been updated to include almost all known clean cracks and original flux dumps, and the Apple II gameport ComputerEyes frame grabber is now emulated. We’ve received a series of submissions that greatly improve emulation of the SWTPC S/09 and SS-30 bus cards. On the SGI front, the 4D/20 now has fully-working IRIX 4.0.5 via serial console, and a whole host of improvements have gone into the Indy “Newport” graphics board emulation. Finally, MAME now supports HDI, 2MG and raw hard disk image files.
As always, you can get the source and Windows binary packages from the download page.
MAMETesters Bugs Fixed

New working machines New working clones Machines promoted to working Clones promoted to working New machines marked as NOT_WORKING New clones marked as NOT_WORKING New working software list additions New NOT_WORKING software list additions Source Changes submitted by cuavas to MAME [link] [comments]


2019.08.28 13:34 Lupinepublishers-TGH Hidden cameras sex mms

Lupine Publishers - Journals of Gastroenterology and Hepatology
Risk Predictive Factors to Convert Laparoscopic Cholecystectomy into Other Procedures by Eldo E Frezza in Current Trends in Gastroenterology and Hepatology - Lupine Publishers
Abstract
Laparoscopic cholecystectomy (LC) is nowadays the procedure of choice for cholecystitis. The intraoperative finding can make this procedure quite tricky such as dense adhesions at calot’s triangle, fibrotic and contracted gallbladder, acutely inflamed or gangrenous gallbladder, cholcystoenteric fistula, etc. There are also risk factors which make laparoscopic surgery difficult like old age, male sex, obesity, previous abdominal surgery, thickened gallbladder wall, distended gallbladder, pericholecystic fluid collection, impacted stone, etc. Methods: This is a one cohort retrospective review of patients admitted to the hospital with acute cholecystitis who during LC were converted to intraoperative cholecystostomy tube placement (CCT) or to open cholecystectomy (OC). Preoperative risk factors to predict difficult cholecystectomy were evaluated. Results: Medical records were reviewed retrospectively from January 2010 through December 2016. IRB approval was obtained. LC was performed in 556 cases between 2010-2016, with 56 (10%) conversion: 39 CCT and 17 OC. The highest reason for conversion are Perioperative fluid around the gallbladder before surgery on the ultrasound (10%), preoperative thickness of the gallbladder (9%), Impacted stones (7%) are the predicting factor that have more changes to turn the LC into a different surgical approach. These three parameters are followed by Prior Hospitalization (3%) and presence of abdominal scar (5%). Essential factors to make a problematic surgery were postoperative perivasculitis (2%), obesity (8%), difficult liver mobilization (1%), acute and scleroatrophic cholecystitis (1%), “porcelain gallbladder” (2%). Causes of bleeding during our operation were: cirrhosis (2%), accidental adhesion tearing (0.5%) (Table 1). Conclusion: Problematic LC can be diagnoses before the surgery and make the OR team ready for different surgical approach.
Keywords: Laparoscopic Cholecystectomy; Open Cholecystectomy; Cholecystostomy Tube; Difficult Cholecystectomy; Predictive Factors for Difficult Surgery.
Introduction Laparoscopic cholecystectomy (LC) is nowadays the procedure of choice for cholecystitis [1]. The intraoperative finding can make this procedure quite tricky such as dense adhesions at calot’s triangle, fibrotic and contracted gallbladder, acutely inflamed or gangrenous gallbladder, cholcystoenteric fistula, etc. [2]. There are also risk factors which make laparoscopic surgery difficult like old age, male sex, obesity, previous abdominal surgery, thickened gallbladder wall, distended gallbladder, pericholecystic fluid collection, impacted stone, etc. [3]. A cholecystostomy is an opening made in the gallbladder, to place a tube for drainage. John Stough Bobbs, in 1867, was the first to described it [4,5]. It has been used in 1) person is ill, and 2) to defer cholecystectomy [6]. Todd Baron and Mark Topazian in 2007 place the first percutaneous Cholecustostomy Tube using ultrasound guidance [7]. The role of Cholecystostomy tube (CCT) is controversial in current surgical practice [8]. In critically ill patients, cholecystostomy tubes should remain in place until the patient is deemed medically suitable to undergo cholecystectomy. Removal of the cholecystostomy tube without subsequent cholecystectomy was reported associated with a high incidence of recurrences. [9] Attempts to predict intraoperative difficulties was described and included, palpable gallbladder, pericholecystic fluid, male more than female incidence, etc. [11], but still is not an 100% given all patients are different. Technical and tactical solutions to deal with complicated cholecystitis surgery were reported [10] but cannot be always applicable. Our study is based on the assumption that difficulty cholecystectomy can be defined before the surgery and give the opportunity to the surgical team to prepare for alternate surgeries option like Open Cholecystectomy (OC) or intraoperative Cholecystostomy Tube placement (CTT).

Methods This is a retrospective review of patients admitted to the hospital who were diagnosed with acute cholecystitis who underwent an initial laparoscopic Cholecystectomy. The study was designed to find those patients who were converted in other surgery than LLC and check if the preoperative work out was predictive of failure of LLC. The Cohort taken in consideration were those who converted into Cholecystostomy Tube Placement (CCT) or to open cholecystectomy (OC). Medical records were reviewed for demographic data, diagnoses, imaging, complications, and outcomes: from January 2010 through December 2016 from the same surgeon. IRB approval was obtained. a) Inclusion Criteria: All patients who underwent LC from January 2010 to December 2016 were included in the study. b) Exclusion Criteria: i. Laparoscopic cholecystectomy performed with other laparoscopic intervention in the same setting. ii. Laparoscopic cholecystectomy with Common Bile Duct (CBD) exploration. iii. Absolute contraindications to LC like cardiovascular, pulmonary disease, coagulopathies, and end-stage liver disease. Demographic symptoms sings of presentations were evaluated to find if those were impacting on our surgeries and addresses the activities of the cholecystectomy. The evaluated risk were the following: history os hospitalization, palpable gallbladder, thicken gallbladder, peri-cholecystitis fluid, impacted stones at the neck, abdominal scar. The characteristic of the patients was reported in Table 1. Pre And Intraoperative A detailed proforma was in place before the surgery to record information regarding patient history, physical examination, laboratory parameters, ultrasonography (USG) findings and intraoperative details. Operative Technique After obtaining an informed consent including an option for CCT and OC the patient was taken to the operating room placed under general anesthesia and prep in the usual fashion. The first incision was done in the left upper quadrant with a knife and a trocar, and a camera was advanced through the tissue under direct vision. Once in the abdomen, we obtained a pneumoperitoneum of 15mmHg. We place 2 five mm trocars in the right upper quadrant, one at the level of the belly button of 5 mm. The initial trocar was switched to a 12mm trocars. Evaluation of the Right upper quadrant and the gallbladder was made. Critical Factors The crititical factor evaluated to continue the LC or turned into CCT or OC: 1) a change of the color of the gallbladder (green etc), 2) multiple adhesion which could not be taken out, 3) inability to grab the gallbladder after aspirating with the needle, 4) failure to see after the body of the gallbladder and define the neck of the gallbladder without good vision of the area of the common bile duct. CCT The fundus of the gallbladder was open with the Bovie. The fluid was aspirated, and the stones inside in the gallbladder were taken out by grasping with a laparoscopic Babcock after all the stones were cleaned and placed one by one in a separate bag inserted in the abdomen. The bag was closed. We then whased the gallbladder with saline, which also helps to mobilize hidden stones. The camera was then advance inside the gallbladder and evaluated from inside visualize the cystic duct. Once we know they there no other stones obstructing, a 2/0 silk purse string was placed at the fundus opening. With a separate incision, a Foley 18 French was inserted in the abdomen and the tip placed inside the gallbladder. The purse string was tied, and the balloon of the Foley was filled with seven ml. of saline. A Jackson Prat was placed at the liver fossa and secure with a 2/0 nylon to the skin. Same suture was used to secure the CCT to the skin. as we did to achieve the Foley now new cholecystostomy tube. The CCT was connected to a Foley bag and left on gravity. Given the difficult to have a real CCT, we usually use a Foley 18 French as CCT tube. We wash the abdomen and close the trocars with 4/0 monocryl and dermabond. After surgery, the patient was allowed to advance the diet and walk. Most of the patients were discharged within 36 hours with home health. OC If the CCT was not possible with a knife, we made a subcostal incision. The incision was then taken down with the bouvie while separating the muscle. Once in the abdomen, we close the gas insufflation. Few laps were placed on the stomach, duodenum and colon side. The gallbladder was grasped with a kelly clamp and dissected with bouvie from the liver. Once at the neck of the gallbladder was visualized the artery and the cystic duct, were dissected either between clips or with vascular staplers. Jackson Prat ten French drainage was placed in the liver fossa and secure to the skin. The wound was closed in layers with one vycril and stapler for the skin. The patient was allowed fluid, they were placed on PCA pump and discharge home with home health care within 4 days. Post OP Treatment of the CCT The tube was left on biliary bag drainage, Cholangiogram is ordered between week 4 and 6. If no stones were found from the cholangiogram the tube was pulled out in the office otherwise redo surgery was scheduled.
Results 556 cases were performed between 2010-2016 by the same surgeon, Total 56 patients (10%) who match our criteria were converted: 39 CCT and 17 OC. The surgery was performed by the same surgeon in different hospitals. Mean intraoperative time was 51 ± 26 min (range 27–77min) in CCT and 53 ± 28min (range 25–81 min) in OC. Postoperative hospital stay was 1.4 ± 0.4 days in CCT and 4 ± 1 in OC (p< 0.05). The operative data, time bleeding and postoperative hospital stay, seromas incidence were collected and reported in Table 1. The following comorbidities were founded: cardiovascular disease (20 patients), respiratory failure (10 patients). At 30 days, the morbidity associated with the CCT itself was 4% while OC was 70%. Of the patients who underwent CCT only one (10%) underwent LC after 30 days. Perioperative fluid around the gallbladder before surgery on the ultrasound (10%), preoperative thickness of the gallbladder (9%), Impacted stones (7%) are the predicting factor that have more changes to turn the LC into a different surgical approach. These three parameters are followed by Prior Hospitalization (3%) and presence of abdominal scar (5%) (Table 1). Essential factors to make a problematic surgery were: postoperative perivasculitis (2%), obesity (8%), difficult liver mobilization (1%), acute and scleroatrophic cholecystitis (1%), “porcelain gallbladder” (2%). Causes of bleeding during our operation were: cirrhosis (2%), accidental adhesion tearing (0.5%) (Table 1).
Discussion With the help of accurate prediction, the high-risk patient may be informed beforehand regarding probability of conversion to OC or CCT. This discuss will also help the surgeon and the OR team to prepare the alternative surgeries. Surgeons should be aware of the possible complications that may arise in high-risk patients. Risk Predictors Factors Male sex makes surgery difficult as being reported in studies [10-12]. Conversion rate and significantly higher mortality [13,8] and found to be a significant factor. Subtotal cholecystectomy, antegrade and fundus first techniques which is now being more commonly done during LC were associated with lower complications and conversion rate. Other risk factors for difficulty surgery are reported as increased age, acute and thick wall chronic cholecystitis, wide and short cystic duct, cholecyst digestive fistula, previous upper abdominal surgery, obesity, liver cirrhosis, anatomic variation, cholangiocarcinoma, and low surgeon’s caseload [14]. Although decompression and drainage of the gallbladder through a radiological placed cholecystostomy tube may be used as a temporary treatment of acute cholecystitis in ill population, there is still some debate about the management of the tube and the subsequent need for a cholecystectomy. Other authors reported 105 patients, 12 (11.4%) required conversion to open cholecystectomy. They pointed out that their significant predictors of conversion were body mass index> 30Kg/m2, male gender, history of acute cholecystitis or acute pancreatitis, the recent history of upper abdominal surgery, and gallbladder wall thickness exceeding 3mm [15]. Thickened gallbladder wall is an ultrasonographic finding of acute cholecystitis, and it was a significant factor in previous studies [16-18]. James Majeski [16], showed that a preoperative gallbladder ultrasound evaluation with a thick gallbladder wall (>3mm) and calculi, is a clinical warning for a problematic laparoscopic cholecystectomy procedure which may require conversion to an open cholecystectomy procedure [19]. But Carmody concluded that detailed preoperative ultrasound evaluation of the gallbladder in patients destined for laparoscopic cholecystectomy is of little value in screening for difficult or unsuitable cases. They found that there were no ultrasound features that can differentiate between the unsuccessful, confusing, or uneventful laparoscopic cholecystectomy [20]. In our study thickened gallbladder wall was present in all patients and outcome was found to be dependent on this variable by chi-square test (p = 0.001), and logistic regression analysis also ascertained the significance of this factor for prediction (p = 0.005). Pericholecystic fluid is an ultrasonographic finding of acute cholecystitis. This was found to be a significant factor in our study (p = 0.939), as well as palpable gallbladder (p = 0.05). Therefore, we agree with Randhawa [21] who also reported that presence of palpable gallbladder has a significant bearing on define difficult surgery. Difficulty in gallbladder grasping was associated significantly with the conversion. A distended gallbladder or a gallbladder filled with stones is not easily grasped because it tends to slip away. Presence of inflammation around the gallbladder makes the wall friable and edematous, thus posing problems. These data were reported by Singh [22] who also found a significant association between difficulties in grasping a distended gallbladder and pericholecystic inflammation. Lal [23] have identified that presence of large stones in the gallbladder neck leads to distention and difficulty in grasping. Cholecystostomy Percutaneous Cholecystectomy (PCCT) is primarily indicated for accessing the gallbladder to manage cholecystitis or to serve as a portal to remove or dissolve gallstones [24,25]. In the current literature and clinical practice, surgeon and internal medicine physician continue to recommend PCCT as an alternative to surgical cholecystectomy in patients with acute cholecystitis deemed poor surgical candidates. This trend is mainly based on retrospective studies [24,25,9] and anecdotal clinical experience, which result in an inconsistent and unsupported utilization of PCCT. The recommendation of PCCT over surgical alternatives will continue to be based mostly on clinical intuition until randomized, controlled trials answer a series of questions regarding the treatment of acute cholecystitis [8]. If surgical options under general anesthesia can be avoided by a fast, simple, low-risk procedure under conscious sedation in any patient, it stands to reason that that procedure should become the new primary treatment option. Controversy and confusion over the application of PCCT raise a critical question: Does the existing, albeit insufficient, literature support the potential use of PCCT as a first-line and potentially definitive therapy for any cases of acute cholecystitis? PCCT should be still considered in a critical ill patient who cannot stand general anesthesia. Some other authors were close to our concept and tried to dissolve the stones to avoid another surgery by placing CCT laparoscopically. Authors have employed the cholecystostomy tract to facilitate removal of gallstones by basket extraction [26] dissolution with bile acids, and destruction and retrieval with shock-wave lithotripsy [27,28,29]. Retrospective studies have demonstrated a gallstone recurrence rate of ∼10 to 30% per year and a symptomatic recurrence rate requiring repeat treatment of ∼6 to 18% per year. Stone removal can be repeated as needed, but the high rate of symptomatic recurrence and the risks and consequences of recurrent acute cholecystitis may limit the future of this option as a definitive treatment. With nowadays improved laparoscopic technique the conversion rate should be minimal in our experience is only 10%. The highest reason for conversion are Perioperative fluid around the gallbladder before surgery on the ultrasound (10%), preoperative thickness of the gallbladder (9%), Impacted stones (7%) are the predicting factor that have more changes to turn the LC into a different surgical approach. These three parameters are followed by Prior Hospitalization (3%) and presence of abdominal scar (5%) (Table 1) and made high risk for performing another surgery but LLC. Other factor whoch can predict problematic surgery were: postoperative perivasculitis (2%), obesity (8%), difficult liver mobilization (1%), acute and scleroatrophic cholecystitis (1%), “porcelain gallbladder” (2%). Causes of bleeding during our operation were: cirrhosis (2%), accidental adhesion tearing (0.5%) (Table 1).
Conclusion Problematic LC can be diagnoses before the surgery and make the OR team ready for different surgical approach. Conversion should be kept less than 20% of the cases in out experience was 10%. PCCT should be still considered in a critically ill patient who cannot stand general anesthesia.
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2019.08.16 16:36 00u Spoiler: Stranger Things Complete Unofficial Soundtrack s1 s2 s3 with exact timecodes and comments that tell when song is heard

This is a Stranger Things Complete Unofficial Soundtrack s1 s2 s3 collection of music within Stranger Things seasons s1, s2 and s3 except: * no Christmas, classical, accordion, hornpipe, marching band, songs briefly sung by cast and none of the score by Kyle Dixon and Michael Stein
The first list is just season/episode/time - name - artist with no spoilers.
The second list is a hidden spoiler since it includes ID3tag comments for each track about when it is heard in the episode.
FILE NAME FORMAT sXeY.HMMSSz - [song name] - [artist] X=season Y=episode H=hour MM=minute SS=second z=s - "soundtrack" sourced from an official Stranger Things Soundtrack, e.g. Heroes z=e - "extra" not on an official soundtrack using the best source possible
MISSING s1e1 - Dark Stars - Mark Glass - Jonathan parks outside Lonnie's place s2e6 - Where Django's At - Cameron Brooks s2e9 - I See Charcoal (You See Scarlet) - Cameron Brooks
EDITS - these songs were shortened but include all the music heard in the show s1e5.01459e - Green Desert (edit) - Tangerine Dream s3e6.05306e - Confrontation and Rescue (edit) - Philip Glass
SUBSTITUTE s2e9.04450e - Rare Bird (Live) - Tangerine Dream is LIVE and but the version in the show is a studio version from "Ride On The Ray The Blue Years Anthology 1980-1987 (2011)". This live version sounds very close to the one used in the show.
season/episode.HMMSSx - title - artist s1e1.01615e - Can't Seem to Make You Mine - The Seeds s1e1.02139e - She Has Funny Cars - Jefferson Airplane s1e1.02647e - I Shall Not Care - Pearls Before Swine s1e1.02855e - Jenny May - Trader Horne s1e1.03810e - Every Little Bit - Jackie James and Ian Curnow s1e1.03844e - White Rabbit - Jefferson Airplane s1e1.04106s - Africa - Toto s1e2.01630e - Go Nowhere - Reagan Youth s1e2.01639s - Should I Stay Or Should I Go - The Clash s1e2.02736e - I'm Taking Off (Shield Your Eyes) - Space Knife s1e2.03252e - Body Language - Alexander Baker and Clair Marlo s1e2.03708e - Tie A Yellow Ribbon - Brotherhood Of Man s1e2.03823e - Raise A Little Hell - Trooper s1e2.04312e - I Melt With You - Modern English s1e2.05236s - Hazy Shade Of Winter - The Bangles s1e3.00041e - Waiting for a Girl Like You - Foreigner s1e3.04708s - Heroes - Peter Gabriel s1e4.00348s - Atmosphere - Joy Division s1e4.03357e - Color Dreams - The Deep s1e5.01102s - Elegia - New Order s1e5.01459e - Green Desert (edit) - Tangerine Dream s1e5.05027s - Nocturnal Me - Echo and The Bunnymen s1e6.00331s - Corey Hart - Sunglasses At Night s1e6.01624e - I See the Future - Andrew Pinching s1e6.01907e - Happy Jose - Kookie Freeman s1e6.02815e - The Bargain Store - Dolly Parton s1e6.03223e - Exit - Tangerine Dream s1e7.02224e - Fields of Coral - Vangelis s1e8.03656e - Horizon (Warsaw Gate Mix) - Tangerine Dream s1e8.03656e - When It's Cold I'd Like to Die - Moby s2e1.00610s - Whip It - Devo s2e1.00925e - Just Another Day - Oingo Boingo s2e1.01210s - Talking in Your Sleep - The Romantics s2e1.01356s - Rock You Like a Hurricane - Scorpions s2e1.01558e - Spookie Movies - Gary Paxton s2e1.04005e - Every Other Girl - Prehistoric Wolves s2e2.01031e - Ghostbusters (Instrumental) - Ray Parker Jr s2e2.02509e - Wango Tango - Ted Nugent s2e2.02925e - Blackout - Swing Set s2e2.03042e - Shout at the Devil - Motley Crue s2e2.03223e - Islands in the Stream - Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton s2e2.03820e - Monster Mash - Bobby Boris Pickett s2e2.04116s - Girls On Film - Duran Duran s2e2.04540e - Outside the Realm - Big Giant Circles s2e2.05242e - Ghostbusters - Ray Parker Jr s2e3.00852e - Whistle On the River - The Mercey Brothers s2e3.01604s - You Don't Mess Around with Jim - Jim Croce s2e3.01901e - Go! - Tones On Tail s2e3.02716s - The Ghost in You - The Psychedelic Furs s2e3.02849e - Clean Cut American Kid - Ill Repute s2e3.03144e - Cookin - Al Casey Combo s2e3.03713e - How I Feel About You - Jumpstreet s2e4.01015e - This Is Radio Clash - The Clash s2e4.01619e - Scarface (Push It To the Limit) - Paul Engemann s2e4.03308e - The Growing - The Haxan Cloak s2e5.00552e - Try My Love - Carroll Lloyd s2e5.01103e - You Ought To Be With Me - Carl Weathers s2e5.01518e - Green, Green Grass of Home - Bobby Bare s2e5.01810e - Can I Do What I Want - Shock Therapy s2e5.02029e - Metal Sport - Hittman s2e5.02048e - Darling Don't Leave Me - Robert Gorl s2e5.03727e - When the Sun Goes Down - The Jetzons s2e5.03943e - Strength in Numbers - Channel 3 s2e5.04143e - No More - Billie Holiday s2e5.04939e - Open the Kingdom (Liquid Days Part Two) - Philip Glass s2e6.00052e - Hammer to Fall - Queen s2e6.00717e - There Is Frost On the Moon - Artie Shaw and His Orchestra s2e6.00944e - You Better Go Now - Billie Holiday s2e6.01658e - Blue Bayou - Roy Orbison s2e6.01854e - Round and Round - Ratt s2e7.00631s - Runaway - Bon Jovi s2e7.01625s - Back To Nature - Fad Gadget s2e7.02128e - The Bank Robbery - John Carpenter s2e7.02313e - Dead End Justice - The Runaways s2e7.04202e - Whisper to a Scream (Birds Fly) - The Icicle Works s2e8.00503e - The Love You Save (May Be Your Own) - Jack Cook s2e8.00519e - The Four Horseman - Metallica s2e9.00451e - The Way We Were - Barbra Streisand s2e9.00541e - I Do Believe (I Fell in Love) - Donna Summer s2e9.04450e - Rare Bird (Live) - Tangerine Dream s2e9.04847e - Love is a Battlefield - Pat Benatar s2e9.04940s - Twist of Fate - Olivia Newton-John s2e9.05105s - Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper s2e9.05606s - Every Breath You Take - The Police s3e1.00607s - Never Surrender - Corey Hart s3e1.01313e - Open the Door - Gentlemen Afterdark s3e1.01709e - Rock This Town - Stray Cats s3e1.01745s - Moving In Stereo - The Cars s3e1.01929e - The Touch of You - Andrea Litkei and Ervin Litkei s3e1.02138s - Workin' for a Livin' - Huey Lewis and The News s3e1.02646s - She's Got You - Patsy Cline s3e1.03050e - Hot Blooded - Foreigner s3e1.03157e - Italian Gigolo - Vincenzo Salvia s3e1.03714s - Can't Fight This Feeling - REO Speedwagon s3e1.04411e - (I Just) Died in Your Arms - Cutting Crew s3e2.00526s - You Don't Mess Around With Jim - Jim Croce s3e2.00902e - Get Up and Go - The Go-Go's s3e2.01229e - Gunpoint Affection - Black Market Baby s3e2.01454e - Matter of Love - Altitude Music s3e2.01931e - Ballroom Foxtrot - John Leighton s3e2.02629e - Too Late for Tears - Geronimo and the Apaches s3e2.02656s - My Bologna - Weird Al Yankovic s3e2.02801e - Beautiful, Lovable - Billy Munn s3e2.03232s - Material Girl - Madonna s3e2.03714s - Cold As Ice - Foreigner s3e3.00006e - Angel - Madonna s3e3.00303e - Phone to Phone - Life By Night s3e3.00355s - Lovergirl - Teena Marie s3e3.00741e - The Pod Dance - Trevor Jones s3e3.01458e - All Your Reasons Why - Smart Remarks s3e3.01721s - Things Can Only Get Better - Howard Jones s3e3.02228e - Place In My Heart - Brian Page s3e3.02811s - Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go - Wham s3e3.04221e - Is It a Sin - Al Anthony s3e3.04516e - American Pie - Don Mclean s3e4.04830s - We'll Meet Again - Vera Lynn s3e5.02338e - Strike Zone - Loverboy s3e5.03236e - Boogie Man - Sid Phillips and His Melodians s3e5.03857e - In Our Hideaway - Valentino s3e6.00631e - Stand Up And Meet Your Brother - Possum River s3e6.01132e - The Wild Ride - Danny Elfman s3e6.01314s - Neutron Dance - The Pointer Sisters s3e6.04406e - Stairway Chase - Danny Elfman s3e6.05306e - Confrontation and Rescue 1896 Satyagraha Act II Tagore Scene 1 (edit) - Philip Glass s3e7.00010s - R.O.C.K. In the U.S.A. (A Salute To 60's Rock) - John Mellencamp s3e8.00735e - Goldrush II 12in Mix - Yello s3e8.01315e - (Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher - Jackie Wilson s3e8.03514s - Never Ending Story - Dustin and Suzie s3e8.05654e - When You See Me - Hurricane Express s3e8.10608e - Deep - Peter Sandberg
SPOILERS - season/episode.HMMSSx - title - artist # comment on when the song is heard s1e1.01615e - Can't Seem to Make You Mine - The Seeds # Hopper walks into the Hawkins Police Department and chats with his officers, then is informed of Will Byers being missing s1e1.02139e - She Has Funny Cars - Jefferson Airplane # Eleven sneaks into Benny's Burgers to find some food s1e1.02647e - I Shall Not Care - Pearls Before Swine # Benny makes burgers and sits down to talk with Eleven s1e1.02855e - Jenny May - Trader Horne # Eleven makes noisy the fan stop at the diner s1e1.03810e - Every Little Bit - Jackie James and Ian Curnow # Nancy is studying in her bedroom as Steve climbs up to her window s1e1.03844e - White Rabbit - Jefferson Airplane # Heard on the radio when agents come to Benny's Burgers to capture Eleven s1e1.04106s - Africa - Toto # Steve helps Nancy with her homework and things get heated s1e2.01630e - Go Nowhere - Reagan Youth # Jonathan listens to music while starting his drive to Lonnie's place s1e2.01639s - Should I Stay Or Should I Go - The Clash # Jonathan hears this song as he drives, remembering when he and Will listened to the song together. Later, Joyce finds the stereo playing it in Will's room. s1e2.02736e - I'm Taking Off (Shield Your Eyes) - Space Knife # Jonathan shoves past Cynthia and searches Lonnie's house for Will s1e2.03252e - Body Language - Alexander Baker and Clair Marlo # Over the phone, Nancy and Barb make plans to sneak off to Steve's party s1e2.03708e - Tie A Yellow Ribbon - Brotherhood Of Man # Nancy has Barb pull her car over, then Barb tries to convince her that the party is just Steve's attempt to have sex with her s1e2.03823e - Raise A Little Hell - Trooper # Steve opens the front door, letting the girls in s1e2.04312e - I Melt With You - Modern English # Music playing at Steve's pool party s1e2.05236s - Hazy Shade Of Winter - The Bangles # Nancy makes out with Steve while Barbara is taken by the Monster - plays into end credits s1e3.00041e - Waiting for a Girl Like You - Foreigner # First song as Nancy loses her virginity with Steve s1e3.04708s - Heroes - Peter Gabriel # Hopper and the kids find out what has been discovered at the quarry s1e4.00348s - Atmosphere - Joy Division # First song after Chief Hopper finishes informing Joyce about the discovery at the quarry s1e4.03357e - Color Dreams - The Deep # Hopper buys O'Bannon a beer, before questioning him about the discovery at the quarry s1e5.01102s - Elegia - New Order # Instrumental music on the morning of Will's funeral s1e5.01459e - Green Desert (edit) - Tangerine Dream # Hopper tears apart his trailer looking for listening devices - 10m45s edit of 19m33s original s1e5.05027s - Nocturnal Me - Echo and The Bunnymen # Jonathan tries to find Nancy and it plays into end credits s1e6.00331s - Corey Hart - Sunglasses At Night # Steve sneaks up to Nancy's bedroom window but sees her sitting on the bed with Jonathan s1e6.01624e - I See the Future - Andrew Pinching # Karen opens Nancy's bedroom door to find music blaring and the room empty - Karen opens Nancy's bedroom door to find music blaring and the room empty s1e6.01907e - Happy Jose - Kookie Freeman # Song playing inside the grocery store as Eleven steals Eggos s1e6.02815e - The Bargain Store - Dolly Parton # Nancy and Jonathan go to the store to buy monster hunting supplies s1e6.03223e - Exit - Tangerine Dream # Steve and Jonathan fight in the alley s1e7.02224e - Fields of Coral - Vangelis # Nancy asks about Eleven's dress then the kids explain The Upside Down to everyone s1e8.03656e - Horizon (Warsaw Gate Mix) - Tangerine Dream # Hopper coaching Joyce on pacing her breathing as he flashbacks to his daughter's first signs of cancer s1e8.03656e - When It's Cold I'd Like to Die - Moby # The boys call out for Eleven after she disappears with the Demogorgon and Will is brought back to life in the Upside Down s2e1.00610s - Whip It - Devo # The boys arrive at the arcade s2e1.00925e - Just Another Day - Oingo Boingo # The boys walk back into the arcade and the new day starts as Chief Hopper arrives at the police station s2e1.01210s - Talking in Your Sleep - The Romantics # Hopper walks out on Murray then Steve and Nancy talk in the car about his application essay s2e1.01356s - Rock You Like a Hurricane - Scorpions # Steve and Nancy are interrupted by Billy's grand entrance at school s2e1.01558e - Spookie Movies - Gary Paxton # The boys watch Max sit down in class and Bob arrives at Melvald's General Store s2e1.04005e - Every Other Girl - Prehistoric Wolves # At Hawkins Lab the main technician is bouncing a stress ball before the console alarms go off s2e2.01031e - Ghostbusters (Instrumental) - Ray Parker Jr # The boys are getting dressed up for Halloween as their families take photos s2e2.02509e - Wango Tango - Ted Nugent # Billy drives Max home and complains about having to move to Hawkins s2e2.02925e - Blackout - Swing Set # Jonathan drives Will to meet his friends as they discuss Bob and their mom's over-protectiveness s2e2.03042e - Shout at the Devil - Motley Crue # Steve, Nancy and Billy at the Halloween party s2e2.03223e - Islands in the Stream - Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton # Bob and Joyce dance around her living room s2e2.03820e - Monster Mash - Bobby Boris Pickett # El remembers taking the food in the forest Hop left for her and the boys and Max go trick-or-treating s2e2.04116s - Girls On Film - Duran Duran # The trick-or-treating group breaks up and Jonathan arrives at the Halloween Party s2e2.04540e - Outside the Realm - Big Giant Circles # Mike tells Will it feels like Eleven is still around, Jonathan drives Nancy home and tucks her into bed, Hop rushes home late and knocks on the door s2e2.05242e - Ghostbusters - Ray Parker Jr # Dustin peers inside the trashcan and explaims "Holy Sh.." and is cut off by the end credits s2e3.00852e - Whistle On the River - The Mercey Brothers # Dustin grabs his pile of library books and makes a run for it then Bob drives Will to school and he tells him about a nightmare he had as a kid s2e3.01604s - You Don't Mess Around with Jim - Jim Croce # Flashback to Hopper playing a record for Eleven then a montage of them cleaning up the cabin and learning to use the radio for Morse code messages s2e3.01901e - Go! - Tones On Tail # Eleven leaves the cabin; Steve and Billy wrestle on the basketball court; Nancy shows up at the gym to confront Steve s2e3.02716s - The Ghost in You - The Psychedelic Furs # Jonathan tells Nancy how he ended up taking her home from the party then they talk about how things have changed since Will disappeared s2e3.02849e - Clean Cut American Kid - Ill Repute # While Nancy and Jonathan talk, a classmate starts listening to music on his walkman s2e3.03144e - Cookin - Al Casey Combo # Joyce phones Bob at Radioshack for help with playing his video camera s2e3.03713e - How I Feel About You - Jumpstreet # As Nancy and Jonathan head to her room, Karen Wheeler stops them to say hi s2e4.01015e - This Is Radio Clash - The Clash # After telling her mom she's staying at Stacey's overnight, Nancy heads outside to join Jonathan s2e4.01619e - Scarface (Push It To the Limit) - Paul Engemann # Hopper starts his truck after getting a message about Joyce's many calls; Billy gives Steve advice on holding his ground on the court s2e4.03308e - The Growing - The Haxan Cloak # Billy grabs Maxs arm and tells her to stay away from Lucas then Hopper heads out into the pumpkin field and starts digging s2e5.00552e - Try My Love - Carroll Lloyd # Nancy and Jonathan check into a motel s2e5.01103e - You Ought To Be With Me - Carl Weathers # The Sinclair family sits down for breakfast and Lucas asks his father what he does when his mom is mad at him s2e5.01518e - Green, Green Grass of Home - Bobby Bare # Eleven catches a ride with a semi trucker to visit her mother s2e5.01810e - Can I Do What I Want - Shock Therapy # Nancy and Jonathan arrive at Murray's Warehouse s2e5.02029e - Metal Sport - Hittman # Billy drops Max at the arcade and tells her to be out in an hour s2e5.02048e - Darling Don't Leave Me - Robert Gorl # Max is shown into the backroom of the arcade where Lucas is waiting for her s2e5.03727e - When the Sun Goes Down - The Jetzons # Lucas finishes telling Max about everything and then follows her through the arcade trying to convince her s2e5.03943e - Strength in Numbers - Channel 3 # Max says goodbye to Lucas since Billy arrived to pick her up then Billy questions her about hanging out with Lucas s2e5.04143e - No More - Billie Holiday # Murray puts on a record to help him think about Nancy and Jonathan's revelations s2e5.04939e - Open the Kingdom (Liquid Days Part Two) - Philip Glass # Rapid flashback montage of what happened to Terry Ives s2e6.00052e - Hammer to Fall - Queen # Steve questions Dustin about Dart as he drives him home then takes out the nail-bat s2e6.00717e - There Is Frost On the Moon - Artie Shaw and His Orchestra # Murray, Nancy and Jonathan have a drink to celebrate finishing their mailing campaign then Murray questions Nancy and Jonathan's claim that they are not a couple s2e6.00944e - You Better Go Now - Billie Holiday # Nancy and Jonathan contemplate Murray's words then end up meeting in the living room to express how they don't believe what Murray said s2e6.01658e - Blue Bayou - Roy Orbison # Murray cooks breakfast for Nancy and Jonathan then asks an awkward question on how Jonathan slept s2e6.01854e - Round and Round - Ratt # As Billy pumps iron he tells Max to answer the door, later Max lies to Billy about who was at the door s2e7.00631s - Runaway - Bon Jovi # Eleven gets off a bus in Chicago to look for the girl from Hawkins Lab she's seen in her mom's papers and the Void s2e7.01625s - Back To Nature - Fad Gadget # Kali properly introduces Eleven to her crew s2e7.02128e - The Bank Robbery - John Carpenter # Kali shows Eleven their information board and Eleven recognizes Ray and uses her powers to track his location s2e7.02313e - Dead End Justice - The Runaways # Kali's crew agrees to go after Ray then a montage of the group preparing for their mission then stopping at a supermarket to stock up s2e7.04202e - Whisper to a Scream (Birds Fly) - The Icicle Works # Eleven tells the lady on the bus that she's going home then the end credits play s2e8.00503e - The Love You Save (May Be Your Own) - Jack Cook # Max's mom and step-father arrive home in a pick-up truck s2e8.00519e - The Four Horseman - Metallica # Billy listens to music while smoking and getting ready for his date then his father and step-mum enter his room concerned for Max's whereabouts s2e9.00451e - The Way We Were - Barbra Streisand # Karen is taking a bath when the doorbell rings and Ted is asleep and doesn't wake up after Karen calls for him to go to the door s2e9.00541e - I Do Believe (I Fell in Love) - Donna Summer # Karen opens the door and meets Billy looking for his sister then he comes in flirting with her the whole time s2e9.04450e - Rare Bird (Live) - Tangerine Dream # Murray watches the military leave Hawkins Lab, Barb finally has a funeral, Hopper walks into a restaurant and meets Sam Owens s2e9.04847e - Love is a Battlefield - Pat Benatar # Dustin finishs his hair prep then Steve drops him off at the Snow Ball s2e9.04940s - Twist of Fate - Olivia Newton-John # Dustin enters the school gym and looks around at the Snow Ball dance s2e9.05105s - Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper # Lucas awkwardly asks Max to dance, a girl asks "zombie-boy" Will to dance, Dustin asks several girls but he's rejected then Nancy sees Dustin sitting forlorn and kindly dances with him s2e9.05606s - Every Breath You Take - The Police # Hopper holds a grieving Joyce in the parking lot as Mike sits alone when Eleven walks into the gym and they see each other and dance s3e1.00607s - Never Surrender - Corey Hart # El and Mike are kissing on her bed and Mike starts singing along to the tape despite El's objections s3e1.01313e - Open the Door - Gentlemen Afterdark # Nancy and Jonathan wake up late and rush to work; Joyce and Will have breakfast and the magnets fall off the fridge; Nancy urges Jonathan to drive faster; Dustin tries to contact his friends as he arrives back home s3e1.01709e - Rock This Town - Stray Cats # Justine hair sprays Lucas in the face then we see the citizens of Hawkins enjoying the public swimming pool s3e1.01745s - Moving In Stereo - The Cars # Billy's fan-women watch as Heather leaves and Billy starts his lifeguard shift then pauses to yell at a kid for running s3e1.01929e - The Touch of You - Andrea Litkei and Ervin Litkei # Hopper goes into Melvald's to visit Joyce and vent about El and Mike s3e1.02138s - Workin' for a Livin' - Huey Lewis and The News # Joyce helps Hopper with parenting as Nancy rushes by Melvald's back to her office to deliver everyone's lunches s3e1.02646s - She's Got You - Patsy Cline # Joyce talks Hopper through the talk he plans to give El, then turns down his invitation to dinner s3e1.03050e - Hot Blooded - Foreigner # Billy admires Mrs Wheeler's swimming then compliments her after she gets out of the pool s3e1.03157e - Italian Gigolo - Vincenzo Salvia # Billy very suggestively offers to teach Mrs Wheeler "all the styles" including the breast stroke s3e1.03714s - Can't Fight This Feeling - REO Speedwagon # El and Mike make out in her bedroom while Hopper clutches a pillow and practices his speech before going to talk to the kids s3e1.04411e - (I Just) Died in Your Arms - Cutting Crew # Mrs Wheeler gets ready for her appointment with Billy s3e2.00526s - You Don't Mess Around With Jim - Jim Croce # Hopper gleefully sings along with his car radio as he drives to Melvald's General Store s3e2.00902e - Get Up and Go - The Go-Go's # Nancy drags Jonathan off to investigate the rats followed by a Starcourt Mall montage s3e2.01229e - Gunpoint Affection - Black Market Baby # Dustin pulls out his Russian translation book then Max practices a skateboard trick as El arrives to get advice about Mike s3e2.01454e - Matter of Love - Altitude Music # Heather lifeguards the pool while Billy's fan-women complain about her then Mrs Wheeler sees Billy heading inside and she goes after him s3e2.01931e - Ballroom Foxtrot - John Leighton # Mrs Driscol leads Nancy and Jonathan into her basement so they can investigate s3e2.02629e - Too Late for Tears - Geronimo and the Apaches # Joyce tries to learn about magnets from a stack of university electromagnetism textbooks s3e2.02656s - My Bologna - Weird Al Yankovic # Joyce rings Mr Clarke's doorbell while he is painting miniatures then the garage door opens and they meet s3e2.02801e - Beautiful, Lovable - Billy Munn # Nancy makes calls inquiring about rabid rats and Mrs Driscol offers Nancy a glass of fresh-squeezed lemonade s3e2.03232s - Material Girl - Madonna # Max helps El shop for clothes; the boys look for an apology gift; El and Max have their picture taken and get sticky revenge on the girl who laughed at them and rejected Dustin s3e2.03714s - Cold As Ice - Foreigner # "I dump your ass!" leaves Mike stunned and confused while El and Max get on the bus laughing and high-fiving then Hopper arrests a protester s3e3.00006e - Angel - Madonna # Max dances around to music as El looks through a teen magazine in El's room s3e3.00303e - Phone to Phone - Life By Night # Drunk Hopper returns home and bursts into El's room but only finds El and Max reading magazines and no Mike s3e3.00355s - Lovergirl - Teena Marie # Hopper is happy that Mike is not with El while Max and El Spin the Bottle to determine who El should look at in The Void s3e3.00741e - The Pod Dance - Trevor Jones # Will wakes up Lucas and Mike with music as he tries to get them to play D s3e3.01458e - All Your Reasons Why - Smart Remarks # In the Hawkins Post darkroom, Jonathan and Nancy review his rat pictures and talk s3e3.01721s - Things Can Only Get Better - Howard Jones # Steve and Dustin spy on people around the mall looking for Russians s3e3.02228e - Place In My Heart - Brian Page # El and Max ask the pool manager about Heather's whereabouts then El sees Heather's photo on a bulletin board s3e3.02811s - Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go - Wham # Steve and Dustin discover their suspected Russian is a Jazzercize instructor s3e3.04221e - Is It a Sin - Al Anthony # El and Max enter Heather's house and finds Billy eating dinner with Heather's parents s3e3.04516e - American Pie - Don Mclean # After the girls leave, Billy sits back down at the table with Heather and her parents; Janet passes out, then Heather knocks out her father; end credits s3e4.04830s - We'll Meet Again - Vera Lynn # Billy runs away and the kids stare at him through the hole in the wall; Heather reassures Billy as they look over the rest of the Mind Flayer's minions; end credits s3e5.02338e - Strike Zone - Loverboy # Hopper buys snacks and smokes then watches as Todd pulls up to the gas pumps in a convertible s3e5.03236e - Boogie Man - Sid Phillips and His Melodians # Murray uses a metal detector on Alexei and argues with Hopper s3e5.03857e - In Our Hideaway - Valentino # Nancy and Jonathan apologize to each other as they take an elevator up to Mrs Driscoll's hospital room s3e6.00631e - Stand Up And Meet Your Brother - Possum River # Mayor Kline oversees the set-up of the July 4th Fun Fair s3e6.01132e - The Wild Ride - Danny Elfman # Hopper roughly throws Alexei outside and tells him to get his own cherry slurpie s3e6.01314s - Neutron Dance - The Pointer Sisters # Alexi starts to drive off in the yellow convertible s3e6.04406e - Stairway Chase - Danny Elfman # Joyce calls back their government contact to express how urgent the situation is in Hawkins s3e6.05306e - Confrontation and Rescue 1896 Satyagraha Act II Tagore Scene 1 (edit) - Philip Glass # Billy informs El that now all The Flayed can see where she is and that she's responsible for letting them in; The Flayed gather at Brimborn Steel Works and meld with The Mind Flayer; End credits s3e7.00010s - R.O.C.K. In the U.S.A. (A Salute To 60's Rock) - John Mellencamp # Montage of people at the Mayor's July 4th Fun Fair s3e8.00735e - Goldrush II 12in Mix - Yello # Steve drives the Cadillac with Dustin, Robin and Erica to the Cerebro radio tower s3e8.01315e - (Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher - Jackie Wilson # Murry complains to Jim about killing the four Russians and the Scoops Troop talks as they drive to Dustin's Cerebro radio tower s3e8.03514s - Never Ending Story - Dustin and Suzie # Suzie forces Dustin to sing with her over the radio so she will provide Plank's constant s3e8.05654e - When You See Me - Hurricane Express # Robin and Steve apply for jobs at the video store and Robin tries to convince Keith to also hire Steve s3e8.10608e - Deep - Peter Sandberg # Eleven reads Hopper's letter and the kids part ways
submitted by 00u to StrangerThings [link] [comments]


2019.04.26 16:47 rhonnie14 Sex cameras mms hidden

We were back for the next party. Just a little later than anticipated. Ten years later. But hey, Elizabeth and I finally made it. We finally made the long-awaited sequel to our favorite spring break in Panama City Beach, Florida.
Only now we weren't hard-partying FSU students. Instead, we were twenty-nine and settled down in the suburbs. Married with full-time teaching jobs. And parents as well.
Yeah, we loved Sam and Carol. And raising them proved far more rewarding than any of the binge drinking and wild nights spent during yesteryear. But like a tantalizing time machine, the allure of reliving our youth came calling from time to time. If only for a weekend at least. A one-off shot at traveling back to 2012...
So, Liz and I set aside the time. We let the kids stay with my folks. And on a Friday in April, we left our home in pleasant Tallahassee for the decadent debauchery of PCB.
Like a couple of overeager college students, we descended upon the beach. The water was still cold, but spring break was still going strong for all the waves of college kids. And us hard-partying parents.
Even commercialized by snowbirds, PCB was still a party destination. One chock-full of alcoholics, diners, and cheesy putt-putt golf courses and amusement parks that'd been there since the glory days of 1960s surf culture.
Noise was everywhere. During prime time, you'd hear obnoxious screams, incessant chit-chat, and a never-ending soundtrack that coasted from The Beach Boys to Nicki Minaj. Even in the still of the night, you'd hear stray stragglers and the peaceful lullaby of crashing waves.
Together, Liz and I got drunk on the beach. Indulged at Captain Jack's seafood buffet. Made an intoxicated investigation through the Ripley's Believe It Or Not! museum. And then we made our midnight rounds through the local Walmart.
The only problem was I'd forgotten to book a motel room. Honestly, I wasn't aware just how much the condominiums had conquered our college escape... The mom-and-pop motels of yore now gone with our early-20s. Needless to say, Liz and I couldn't get an oceanfront view. Instead, we ended up at the notorious Coconut Grove. Or Nut Ove as the roach motel's broken neon sign proclaimed...
Coconut Grove was two stories of a yellow eyesore. Like a stage full of Florida cliches, the motel featured skinny palm trees and a modest swimming pool out front. The bare minimum to attract desperate tourists.
Being a few miles away from the actual beach also meant cheaper rates. And cheaper rates meant more unsavory neighbors. With no shoreline breeze, their collective cigarette smoke dominated the motel's seedy atmosphere.
Around one A.M., Liz and I crashed in room number eleven. Needless to say, it was ugly as shit. The room only had one bed, a coffee maker, and a bulky T.V. I didn't even see a Bible in the dresser. Not that Sin City, Florida needed it. Or that Coconut Grove could even afford one for every room.
In the corner was a cramped bathroom unsuitable for anyone over two-hundred pounds. Apparently, Nut Ove had put all its money into nurturing those palm trees.
Every few feet, plastic coconuts broke up the monotony of our hideous yellow walls. The weak A/C unit did its best to stifle the room's cigarette smell. Our walls no match for the loud shouting and Jimmy Buffet soundtrack outside... To top it all off, this shithole wasn't even that cheap. We still had to pay the beach premium even when the swimming pool was the closest thing we had to an ocean view.
But Liz and I didn't complain. We'd stayed in far nastier places during the FSU days. And now for the first time in months, we had real privacy. A suburbanite spring break.
Together, we laid out on the stiff bed. Intoxicated and relaxed. A nightstand lamp our only light.
Both of us held a Miller Lite. Me in my boxers, Elizabeth in her lingerie.
I wasn't very tall but stayed in good shape. Handsome even with the large glasses. Clean-shaven and with a nice, smooth brown complexion. Of course, I could be neurotic, but the booze certainly helped keep me fun and carefree. Less paranoid than normal. Especially tonight. Even Liz was surprised to see me all smiles when we checked into Coconut Hell.
Liz's short black hair and slender frame accompanied a wacky personality. Her poise was always strong. Liz the eccentric writer to my history nerd. Her green eyes beamed any time when we went on an adventure. And they sure as Hell did when we checked into here.
"Michael, put on the T.V.," she told me in a playful demand.
Grinning, I grabbed the remote and followed orders. "A little Snapped to get you hot?" my baritone voice joked.
"Maybe Forensic Files," she teased.
"I like the sound of that."
Like a battle cry, a rock star's scream erupted from the T.V.
And then came an infantry of electric guitars and harmonies. An alt-rock beat straight from 1994.
On screen, a grainy music video played. In the corner, white font spelled it out for us: "New Age Girl" Deadeye Dick
The band's enthusiastic roars grabbed our ears. Liz and I's drunken stupor captivated by this 90s gem.
I flashed her a smile. "You want me to change it?"
"Naw, Hell no!" Liz yelled. Adamant, she knocked the remote out of my hand. "Leave it here!"
Deadeye Dick's harmonies sounded even louder. Like a serenade right above my shoulder. I figured the station was turning it up. Channel 14 ready to get this party started.
Liz turned her sparking emerald eyes toward me. "Didn't Ben play this last time we were here?"
I let out a drunken chuckle. "Yeah, his ass almost got us kicked out!"
I felt a tight grip on my shoulder. With sloppy slowness, I turned but saw no one. Just the bite-sized bathroom behind me. The force of the band's roars must've hit me. But I was too drunk to care. And judging by Liz's cringey sing-along so was she.
"Mary Moooonnn!" she cried. Her voice reminiscent of a Southern banshee... a dying one.
So we let the infomercial play on. Baines Inc.'s 90s Subversive Rock Classics box set. We could get all these goofy, sometimes cheesy 90s hits for only $19.99. Everything from Spacehog's "In The Meantime" to Luscious Jackson's "Naked Eye" to Natalie Imbruglia's "Torn." I gotta say these were some gems... If Liz hadn't reminded me what century I was in, I might've called that toll-free number right then and there.
The commercial was almost five minutes. And completely strange. Outside of baby boomer-targeted local channels, I hadn't seen a CD ad on T.V. in years. Not only that but the commercial itself looked like a relic from the early 2000s. There was no attempt at hi-def, no mention of a web page or social media, and shit, Baines Inc. even offered the set on cassette tape... All while a hypermasculine deep voice kept telling us what a steal this was for twenty dollars...
Then again, the infomercial was about as weird as the channel 14 itself. The Booth Network. The channel's logo nothing more than a pale androgynous face. One with a wicked grin.
I'd never heard of Booth. Nor had a clue where it was being broadcast from...
But still, Liz and I consumed the music like drugs. These forgotten songs sweet nostalgic candy to our ears. The private concert swept us back to the 90s. Back to our childhood.
The narrator announced the reasonable price once more. And them came his barrage of shipping and handling fees. A machine gun of phone numbers and addresses.
"Party on to 90s Subversive Rock Classics!" the enthused voiceover proclaimed.
In a seamless transition, another infomercial appeared. On screen, an older white man stared back at us. He was skinny. Hollow cheekbones. His silver suit somewhere between a spacesuit and a Golden Age tuxedo. With trimmed gray hair and a smooth calm face, this host had the radiance of a bygone movie star. And an ominous voice ripe for black-and-white horror films.
Low-budget sci-fi music played all around him. The type of spooky theremin-made scores not heard in popular culture since the Kennedy administration. Yet the music was even more unsettling here in 2019...
Like a news anchor from the future, the man sat at a bland desk. His backdrop nothing more than a black wall, an empty galaxy. His harsh gaze stayed on Liz and I. His precise delivery said the words of either a madman or televangelist... or Hell, maybe both.
"This isn't just you," he said in a deliberate, gravelly voice. "Your life isn't just here on this Earth, but within layers. Many layers we can't see. Layers we can't understand."
Liz and I exchanged knowing smirks. Oh boy...
The host threw his arms up in righteous frustration. "You think that we're the only ones in the entire galaxy! Of course not. But no, it's not just aliens or extraterrestrials, not just them, but parallel worlds running alongside ours!" In crazy professor mode, the man's hand gestures went wild. "You got us here, but then you also have you hidden from yourself! The other you." He hit the desk for emphasis. "Maybe that's real or maybe it's the duplicate! But it's there. All the different timelines, all the overlaps! They're right here with us!"
Pausing, the man reached under the desk. Not for a cigarette or beer like I figured... but for a small remote.
"He's getting serious," I quipped to Liz.
"Oh yeah," she responded.
On screen, the host waved the remote around. His mannerisms, much like his lecture, long veered out of control. "You can find these alternate worlds if you look hard enough," he said. Discreet, he pressed a button on the remote, making the camera move in a little closer. "Pay attention to where you last placed things, remember the details." The music picking up, the man leaned in closer toward the screen. Closer toward us. "And most importantly, open your eyes!" With a dramatic flourish, he stood up. He now resembled a God in that black backdrop. "Because they're around you! And they've always been!"
Crawling across the screen, spooky yellow font spelled out a toll-free number. $19.99 for Dr. Dourif's Frightening Metaphysics.
"Come to Dr. Dourif," the hypermasculine narrator said, our 90s stoner now emulating a cryptic caretaker. "For the secrets to our world."
Like a preacher confronting his congregation, Dr. Dourif walked toward the camera. "You can see them!" he hollered. "They make mistakes and cross over here! If you pay attention, you can see the mistakes!"
The theremin music rose to a roaring crescendo. A soundtrack for Dr. Dourif's wild highlights.
Of course, the $19.99 and various phone numbers also returned for a curtain call. As did the narrator's speedy rundown of hidden fees.
Liz took a casual sip of booze. "We should buy it."
I nodded. "I bet it'll open our eyes..."
The five minute infomercial faded away. Liz and I now sat in front of a black screen. Everything became so quiet and slow. We heard no one outside, no one behind the thin walls. Even the smell of cigarettes had evaporated. Gone with The Booth Network.
Uneasy, I faced Liz. She was almost done with her Miller Lite. Liz always a faster drinker than me. "You wanna change it?" I asked, hoping my drunkenness kept my voice from sounding too scared.
Liz gave the T.V. a weird look. "There ain't nothing coming on?"
I forced a chuckle. "I think that's it-"
A rebellious scream interrupted me. 90s Subversive Rock Classics had risen from the grave.
Our private concert began once more. The same opening act: Deadeye Dick.
"They're back..." Liz joked.
This drunk, I was even grooving to the song. "Can we leave it here?"
"You read my mind!" Liz beamed. She held her longneck out toward me. "I'm liking that doctor too."
"So am I." I clanged my beer into hers. Cheers to 90s rock.
In an entertaining loop, both infomercials kept playing. Five minutes of cheesy rock followed by five minutes of the deranged Dr. Dourif. It was entertaining enough.
Like obnoxious theater patrons, Liz and I talked back to the screen. A few more beers in and we were even singing along to the music. Not to mention re-enacting the good doctor's many manic tics.
"You can see the mistakes!" Liz yelled in mock fashion.
"That's the greatest nineteen-ninety-nine we'll ever spend," I added.
Laughing, Liz gave me a light shove. "Don't forget shipping and handling!"
After thirty minutes of this infomercial double feature, Liz and I yawned in unison. The drunken karaoke had worn us out until the inevitable morning sex.
"You ready for bed?" she asked me.
"Yeah," I replied.
The booming theremin score drew us both toward the T.V. At all the toll-free numbers being displayed. The many addresses. And at Dr. Dourif in his eccentric element.
"If you pay attention, you can see the mistakes!" he howled.
The camera stayed on the man's fiery face. His wild eyes. His sincerity for the subject...
And then the show faded to black. Back to a brief intermission.
The T.V. cut off. I turned to see a smiling Liz hold the remote.
"Time for bed," she said.
"Gotcha," I said. In a drunken struggle, I managed to turn out the light.
In the quiet darkness, Liz led me to the bathroom. She hurled all our longnecks into the trash bin. A garbage pile of beer.
There the two of us stood in the cramped room. Inches away from each other.
I nodded toward the trash bin. "I'd say we got pretty close to college."
"Mm-hmm," Liz replied. Caressing my arm, she leaned in closer. "Hopefully, that carries over to morning..."
Like an alarm, the rocker's opening scream shattered our intimacy. Somehow, Deadeye Dick found their way back on stage...
"What the fuck!" Liz yelled.
I followed her out the bathroom. "I thought you turned it off!"
"I did!"
"New Age Girl" blanketed whatever silence we had. The glowing T.V. and nightstand lamp destroyed the darkness.
Amidst Deadeye Dick's catchy beat and insistent roars, Liz and I looked on in paralyzing unease.
Yeah, we stood right outside the bathroom. Right here at Coconut Grove. Right here in room number eleven. Our walls were the same putrid yellow. The plastic coconuts still surrounded us. And even the smell of cigarettes had returned.
Only I saw Liz and I lying in bed. Me in my boxers, Liz in her lingerie. Both of us holding Miller Lites. Exactly how we were a mere thirty minutes ago.
On screen, the band's roars continued. Their catchy chorus now hollow to Liz and I's horror. At least to this Liz and I.
In bed, the two of us were still laughing and smiling. Still enjoying the suburbanite spring break.
"You want me to change it?" I heard myself say to Liz number two.
"Naw, Hell no!" the other Liz yelled. We watched her knock the remote out of the other Michael's hand. "Leave it here!" she added.
"Hey!" the real Liz yelled. "Who the fuck are y'all!"
Supportive, I grabbed a hold of her hand. "Yeah, what is this!" I hurled at these... intruders.
But we got no response. Like a disinterested audience, the couple chose to ignore us. Disregard our cries.
Even when Liz reached out and grabbed Michael number two's shoulder, all he did was turn and look right at us. But he had no reaction... as if he saw right through Liz and I.
In a shocking epiphany, I recognized that confused look. The same one I had when I felt someone clutch my shoulder... only I didn't know at the time it was Liz's worried touch.
Drunk and indifferent, the second Michael just turned and looked back at the commercial. Entranced by the 90s-a-thon.
To my horror, I realized the doppelganger couple just didn't care. They were oblivious. Like the infomercials, they just stayed in their loop of drunken bliss. Their eyes glued to the T.V.
In the doorway, the 90s rock washed over Liz and I's ever-growing fear. Sure, our counterparts didn't see us. But we damn sure saw them...
Liz yanked me back toward the bathroom. "Come on!" she said in a trembling voice.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the trash bin. The now-empty bin. Our Miller Lite mountain was gone.
Then we came to a terrified stop. Even through the darkness, Liz and I could see the man standing right in front of the shower.
Even without the theremin score, the man was eerie. Like an ominous statue, he stood so quiet and still. His silver suit somehow glistened. His bright eyes laser-focused on us. And in that frightening instant, Dr. Dourif's many mad ideas became all the more clearer to Liz and I. The mistakes and overlaps in our realities all the more noticeable.
Dr. Dourif didn't even have to say a word. Especially not when that knowing smile spread across his lips.
14
submitted by rhonnie14 to nosleep [link] [comments]


2019.04.26 10:05 rhonnie14 We Watched Weird Infomercials On A Local Channel

We were back for the next party. Just a little later than anticipated. Ten years later. But hey, Elizabeth and I finally made it. We finally made the long-awaited sequel to our favorite spring break in Panama City Beach, Florida.
Only now we weren't hard-partying FSU students. Instead, we were twenty-nine and settled down in the suburbs. Married with full-time teaching jobs. And parents as well.
Yeah, we loved Sam and Carol. And raising them proved far more rewarding than any of the binge drinking and wild nights spent during yesteryear. But like a tantalizing time machine, the allure of reliving our youth came calling from time to time. If only for a weekend at least. A one-off shot at traveling back to 2012...
So, Liz and I set aside the time. We let the kids stay with my folks. And on a Friday in April, we left our home in pleasant Tallahassee for the decadent debauchery of PCB.
Maybe you'd call us sad. Two adult losers trying to re-capture a bygone era of blackouts and irresponsibility. But hey, you try dealing with kids every day. Both at work and home. Like an eternal rehab, family life had forced Elizabeth and I into stilted sobriety. Just a little bit of wine and beer on the weekends, our steamy sex only in spurts. I mean shit, sometimes you had to cut loose. And for one weekend, why couldn't Liz and I purge off our nostalgic sins? After all, what better place to do it than Panama City Beach?
So like a couple of overeager college students, we descended upon the beach. The water was still cold, but spring break was still going strong for all the waves of college kids. And us hard-partying parents.
Even commercialized by snowbirds, PCB was still a party destination. One chock-full of alcoholics, diners, and cheesy putt-putt golf courses and amusement parks that'd been there since the glory days of 1960s surf culture.
Noise was everywhere. During prime time, you'd hear obnoxious screams, incessant chit-chat, and a never-ending soundtrack that coasted from The Beach Boys to Nicki Minaj. Even in the still of the night, you'd hear stray stragglers and the peaceful lullaby of crashing waves.
Together, Liz and I got drunk on the beach. Indulged at Captain Jack's seafood buffet. Made an intoxicated investigation through the Ripley's Believe It Or Not! museum. And then we made our midnight rounds through the local Walmart.
The only problem was I'd forgotten to book a motel room. Honestly, I wasn't aware just how much the condominiums had conquered our college escape... The mom-and-pop motels of yore now gone with our early-20s. Needless to say, Liz and I couldn't get an oceanfront view. Instead, we ended up at the notorious Coconut Grove. Or Nut Ove as the roach motel's broken neon sign proclaimed...
Coconut Grove was two stories of a yellow eyesore. Like a stage full of Florida cliches, the motel featured skinny palm trees and a modest swimming pool out front. The bare minimum to attract desperate tourists.
Being a few miles away from the actual beach also meant cheaper rates. And cheaper rates meant more unsavory neighbors. With no shoreline breeze, their collective cigarette smoke dominated the motel's seedy atmosphere.
Around one A.M., Liz and I crashed in room number eleven. Needless to say, it was ugly as shit. The room only had one bed, a coffee maker, and a bulky T.V. I didn't even see a Bible in the dresser. Not that Sin City, Florida needed it. Or that Coconut Grove could even afford one for every room.
In the corner was a cramped bathroom unsuitable for anyone over two-hundred pounds. Apparently, Nut Ove had put all its money into nurturing those palm trees.
Every few feet, plastic coconuts broke up the monotony of our hideous yellow walls. The weak A/C unit did its best to stifle the room's cigarette smell. Our walls no match for the loud shouting and Jimmy Buffet soundtrack outside... To top it all off, this shithole wasn't even that cheap. We still had to pay the beach premium even when the swimming pool was the closest thing we had to an ocean view.
But Liz and I didn't complain. We'd stayed in far nastier places during the FSU days. And now for the first time in months, we had real privacy. A suburbanite spring break.
Together, we laid out on the stiff bed. Intoxicated and relaxed. A nightstand lamp our only light.
Both of us held a Miller Lite. Me in my boxers, Elizabeth in her lingerie.
I wasn't very tall but stayed in good shape. Handsome even with the large glasses. Clean-shaven and with a nice, smooth brown complexion. Of course, I could be neurotic, but the booze certainly helped keep me fun and carefree. Less paranoid than normal. Especially tonight. Even Liz was surprised to see me all smiles when we checked into Coconut Hell.
Liz's short black hair and slender frame accompanied a wacky personality. Her poise was always strong. Liz the eccentric writer to my history nerd. Her green eyes beamed any time when we went on an adventure. And they sure as Hell did when we checked into here.
"Michael, put on the T.V.," she told me in a playful demand.
Grinning, I grabbed the remote and followed orders. "A little Snapped to get you hot?" my baritone voice joked.
"Maybe Forensic Files," she teased.
"I like the sound of that."
Like a battle cry, a rock star's scream erupted from the T.V.
And then came an infantry of electric guitars and harmonies. An alt-rock beat straight from 1994.
On screen, a grainy music video played. In the corner, white font spelled it out for us: "New Age Girl" Deadeye Dick
The band's enthusiastic roars grabbed our ears. Liz and I's drunken stupor captivated by this 90s gem.
I flashed her a smile. "You want me to change it?"
"Naw, Hell no!" Liz yelled. Adamant, she knocked the remote out of my hand. "Leave it here!"
Deadeye Dick's harmonies sounded even louder. Like a serenade right above my shoulder. I figured the station was turning it up. Channel 14 ready to get this party started.
Liz turned her sparking emerald eyes toward me. "Didn't Ben play this last time we were here?"
I let out a drunken chuckle. "Yeah, his ass almost got us kicked out!"
I felt a tight grip on my shoulder. With sloppy slowness, I turned but saw no one. Just the bite-sized bathroom behind me. The force of the band's roars must've hit me. But I was too drunk to care. And judging by Liz's cringey sing-along so was she.
"Mary Moooonnn!" she cried. Her voice reminiscent of a Southern banshee... a dying one.
So we let the infomercial play on. Baines Inc.'s 90s Subversive Rock Classics box set. We could get all these goofy, sometimes cheesy 90s hits for only $19.99. Everything from Spacehog's "In The Meantime" to Luscious Jackson's "Naked Eye" to Natalie Imbruglia's "Torn." I gotta say these were some gems... If Liz hadn't reminded me what century I was in, I might've called that toll-free number right then and there.
The commercial was almost five minutes. And completely strange. Outside of baby boomer-targeted local channels, I hadn't seen a CD ad on T.V. in years. Not only that but the commercial itself looked like a relic from the early 2000s. There was no attempt at hi-def, no mention of a web page or social media, and shit, Baines Inc. even offered the set on cassette tape... All while a hypermasculine deep voice kept telling us what a steal this was for twenty dollars...
Then again, the infomercial was about as weird as the channel 14 itself. The Booth Network. The channel's logo nothing more than a pale androgynous face. One with a wicked grin.
I'd never heard of Booth. Nor had a clue where it was being broadcast from...
But still, Liz and I consumed the music like drugs. These forgotten songs sweet nostalgic candy to our ears. The private concert swept us back to the 90s. Back to our childhood.
The narrator announced the reasonable price once more. And them came his barrage of shipping and handling fees. A machine gun of phone numbers and addresses.
"Party on to 90s Subversive Rock Classics!" the enthused voiceover proclaimed.
In a seamless transition, another infomercial appeared. On screen, an older white man stared back at us. He was skinny. Hollow cheekbones. His silver suit somewhere between a spacesuit and a Golden Age tuxedo. With trimmed gray hair and a smooth calm face, this host had the radiance of a bygone movie star. And an ominous voice ripe for black-and-white horror films.
Low-budget sci-fi music played all around him. The type of spooky theremin-made scores not heard in popular culture since the Kennedy administration. Yet the music was even more unsettling here in 2019...
Like a news anchor from the future, the man sat at a bland desk. His backdrop nothing more than a black wall, an empty galaxy. His harsh gaze stayed on Liz and I. His precise delivery said the words of either a madman or televangelist... or Hell, maybe both.
"This isn't just you," he said in a deliberate, gravelly voice. "Your life isn't just here on this Earth, but within layers. Many layers we can't see. Layers we can't understand."
Liz and I exchanged knowing smirks. Oh boy...
The host threw his arms up in righteous frustration. "You think that we're the only ones in the entire galaxy! Of course not. But no, it's not just aliens or extraterrestrials, not just them, but parallel worlds running alongside ours!" In crazy professor mode, the man's hand gestures went wild. "You got us here, but then you also have you hidden from yourself! The other you." He hit the desk for emphasis. "Maybe that's real or maybe it's the duplicate! But it's there. All the different timelines, all the overlaps! They're right here with us!"
Pausing, the man reached under the desk. Not for a cigarette or beer like I figured... but for a small remote.
"He's getting serious," I quipped to Liz.
"Oh yeah," she responded.
On screen, the host waved the remote around. His mannerisms, much like his lecture, long veered out of control. "You can find these alternate worlds if you look hard enough," he said. Discreet, he pressed a button on the remote, making the camera move in a little closer. "Pay attention to where you last placed things, remember the details." The music picking up, the man leaned in closer toward the screen. Closer toward us. "And most importantly, open your eyes!" With a dramatic flourish, he stood up. He now resembled a God in that black backdrop. "Because they're around you! And they've always been!"
Crawling across the screen, spooky yellow font spelled out a toll-free number. $19.99 for Dr. Dourif's Frightening Metaphysics.
"Come to Dr. Dourif," the hypermasculine narrator said, our 90s stoner now emulating a cryptic caretaker. "For the secrets to our world."
Like a preacher confronting his congregation, Dr. Dourif walked toward the camera. "You can see them!" he hollered. "They make mistakes and cross over here! If you pay attention, you can see the mistakes!"
The theremin music rose to a roaring crescendo. A soundtrack for Dr. Dourif's wild highlights.
Of course, the $19.99 and various phone numbers also returned for a curtain call. As did the narrator's speedy rundown of hidden fees.
Liz took a casual sip of booze. "We should buy it."
I nodded. "I bet it'll open our eyes..."
The five minute infomercial faded away. Liz and I now sat in front of a black screen. Everything became so quiet and slow. We heard no one outside, no one behind the thin walls. Even the smell of cigarettes had evaporated. Gone with The Booth Network.
Uneasy, I faced Liz. She was almost done with her Miller Lite. Liz always a faster drinker than me. "You wanna change it?" I asked, hoping my drunkenness kept my voice from sounding too scared.
Liz gave the T.V. a weird look. "There ain't nothing coming on?"
I forced a chuckle. "I think that's it-"
A rebellious scream interrupted me. 90s Subversive Rock Classics had risen from the grave.
Our private concert began once more. The same opening act: Deadeye Dick.
"They're back..." Liz joked.
This drunk, I was even grooving to the song. "Can we leave it here?"
"You read my mind!" Liz beamed. She held her longneck out toward me. "I'm liking that doctor too."
"So am I." I clanged my beer into hers. Cheers to 90s rock.
In an entertaining loop, both infomercials kept playing. Five minutes of cheesy rock followed by five minutes of the deranged Dr. Dourif. It was entertaining enough.
Like obnoxious theater patrons, Liz and I talked back to the screen. A few more beers in and we were even singing along to the music. Not to mention re-enacting the good doctor's many manic tics.
"You can see the mistakes!" Liz yelled in mock fashion.
"That's the greatest nineteen-ninety-nine we'll ever spend," I added.
Laughing, Liz gave me a light shove. "Don't forget shipping and handling!"
After thirty minutes of this infomercial double feature, Liz and I yawned in unison. The drunken karaoke had worn us out until the inevitable morning sex.
"You ready for bed?" she asked me.
"Yeah," I replied.
The booming theremin score drew us both toward the T.V. At all the toll-free numbers being displayed. The many addresses. And at Dr. Dourif in his eccentric element.
"If you pay attention, you can see the mistakes!" he howled.
The camera stayed on the man's fiery face. His wild eyes. His sincerity for the subject...
And then the show faded to black. Back to a brief intermission.
The T.V. cut off. I turned to see a smiling Liz hold the remote.
"Time for bed," she said.
"Gotcha," I said. In a drunken struggle, I managed to turn out the light.
In the quiet darkness, Liz led me to the bathroom. She hurled all our longnecks into the trash bin. A garbage pile of beer.
There the two of us stood in the cramped room. Inches away from each other.
I nodded toward the trash bin. "I'd say we got pretty close to college."
"Mm-hmm," Liz replied. Caressing my arm, she leaned in closer. "Hopefully, that carries over to morning..."
Like an alarm, the rocker's opening scream shattered our intimacy. Somehow, Deadeye Dick found their way back on stage...
"What the fuck!" Liz yelled.
I followed her out the bathroom. "I thought you turned it off!"
"I did!"
"New Age Girl" blanketed whatever silence we had. The glowing T.V. and nightstand lamp destroyed the darkness.
Amidst Deadeye Dick's catchy beat and insistent roars, Liz and I looked on in paralyzing unease.
Yeah, we stood right outside the bathroom. Right here at Coconut Grove. Right here in room number eleven. Our walls were the same putrid yellow. The plastic coconuts still surrounded us. And even the smell of cigarettes had returned.
Only I saw Liz and I lying in bed. Me in my boxers, Liz in her lingerie. Both of us holding Miller Lites. Exactly how we were a mere thirty minutes ago.
On screen, the band's roars continued. Their catchy chorus now hollow to Liz and I's horror. At least to this Liz and I.
In bed, the two of us were still laughing and smiling. Still enjoying the suburbanite spring break.
"You want me to change it?" I heard myself say to Liz number two.
"Naw, Hell no!" the other Liz yelled. We watched her knock the remote out of the other Michael's hand. "Leave it here!" she added.
"Hey!" the real Liz yelled. "Who the fuck are y'all!"
Supportive, I grabbed a hold of her hand. "Yeah, what is this!" I hurled at these... intruders.
But we got no response. Like a disinterested audience, the couple chose to ignore us. Disregard our cries.
Even when Liz reached out and grabbed Michael number two's shoulder, all he did was turn and look right at us. But he had no reaction... as if he saw right through Liz and I.
In a shocking epiphany, I recognized that confused look. The same one I had when I felt someone clutch my shoulder... only I didn't know at the time it was Liz's worried touch.
Drunk and indifferent, the second Michael just turned and looked back at the commercial. Entranced by the 90s-a-thon.
To my horror, I realized the doppelganger couple just didn't care. They were oblivious. Like the infomercials, they just stayed in their loop of drunken bliss. Their eyes glued to the T.V.
In the doorway, the 90s rock washed over Liz and I's ever-growing fear. Sure, our counterparts didn't see us. But we damn sure saw them...
Liz yanked me back toward the bathroom. "Come on!" she said in a trembling voice.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the trash bin. The now-empty bin. Our Miller Lite mountain was gone.
Then we came to a terrified stop. Even through the darkness, Liz and I could see the man standing right in front of the shower.
Even without the theremin score, the man was eerie. Like an ominous statue, he stood so quiet and still. His silver suit somehow glistened. His bright eyes laser-focused on us. And in that frightening instant, Dr. Dourif's many mad ideas became all the more clearer to Liz and I. The mistakes and overlaps in our realities all the more noticeable.
Dr. Dourif didn't even have to say a word. Especially not when that knowing smile spread across his lips.
14
submitted by rhonnie14 to DarkTales [link] [comments]


2019.04.26 10:04 rhonnie14 Hidden cameras sex mms

We were back for the next party. Just a little later than anticipated. Ten years later. But hey, Elizabeth and I finally made it. We finally made the long-awaited sequel to our favorite spring break in Panama City Beach, Florida.
Only now we weren't hard-partying FSU students. Instead, we were twenty-nine and settled down in the suburbs. Married with full-time teaching jobs. And parents as well.
Yeah, we loved Sam and Carol. And raising them proved far more rewarding than any of the binge drinking and wild nights spent during yesteryear. But like a tantalizing time machine, the allure of reliving our youth came calling from time to time. If only for a weekend at least. A one-off shot at traveling back to 2012...
So, Liz and I set aside the time. We let the kids stay with my folks. And on a Friday in April, we left our home in pleasant Tallahassee for the decadent debauchery of PCB.
Maybe you'd call us sad. Two adult losers trying to re-capture a bygone era of blackouts and irresponsibility. But hey, you try dealing with kids every day. Both at work and home. Like an eternal rehab, family life had forced Elizabeth and I into stilted sobriety. Just a little bit of wine and beer on the weekends, our steamy sex only in spurts. I mean shit, sometimes you had to cut loose. And for one weekend, why couldn't Liz and I purge off our nostalgic sins? After all, what better place to do it than Panama City Beach?
So like a couple of overeager college students, we descended upon the beach. The water was still cold, but spring break was still going strong for all the waves of college kids. And us hard-partying parents.
Even commercialized by snowbirds, PCB was still a party destination. One chock-full of alcoholics, diners, and cheesy putt-putt golf courses and amusement parks that'd been there since the glory days of 1960s surf culture.
Noise was everywhere. During prime time, you'd hear obnoxious screams, incessant chit-chat, and a never-ending soundtrack that coasted from The Beach Boys to Nicki Minaj. Even in the still of the night, you'd hear stray stragglers and the peaceful lullaby of crashing waves.
Together, Liz and I got drunk on the beach. Indulged at Captain Jack's seafood buffet. Made an intoxicated investigation through the Ripley's Believe It Or Not! museum. And then we made our midnight rounds through the local Walmart.
The only problem was I'd forgotten to book a motel room. Honestly, I wasn't aware just how much the condominiums had conquered our college escape... The mom-and-pop motels of yore now gone with our early-20s. Needless to say, Liz and I couldn't get an oceanfront view. Instead, we ended up at the notorious Coconut Grove. Or Nut Ove as the roach motel's broken neon sign proclaimed...
Coconut Grove was two stories of a yellow eyesore. Like a stage full of Florida cliches, the motel featured skinny palm trees and a modest swimming pool out front. The bare minimum to attract desperate tourists.
Being a few miles away from the actual beach also meant cheaper rates. And cheaper rates meant more unsavory neighbors. With no shoreline breeze, their collective cigarette smoke dominated the motel's seedy atmosphere.
Around one A.M., Liz and I crashed in room number eleven. Needless to say, it was ugly as shit. The room only had one bed, a coffee maker, and a bulky T.V. I didn't even see a Bible in the dresser. Not that Sin City, Florida needed it. Or that Coconut Grove could even afford one for every room.
In the corner was a cramped bathroom unsuitable for anyone over two-hundred pounds. Apparently, Nut Ove had put all its money into nurturing those palm trees.
Every few feet, plastic coconuts broke up the monotony of our hideous yellow walls. The weak A/C unit did its best to stifle the room's cigarette smell. Our walls no match for the loud shouting and Jimmy Buffet soundtrack outside... To top it all off, this shithole wasn't even that cheap. We still had to pay the beach premium even when the swimming pool was the closest thing we had to an ocean view.
But Liz and I didn't complain. We'd stayed in far nastier places during the FSU days. And now for the first time in months, we had real privacy. A suburbanite spring break.
Together, we laid out on the stiff bed. Intoxicated and relaxed. A nightstand lamp our only light.
Both of us held a Miller Lite. Me in my boxers, Elizabeth in her lingerie.
I wasn't very tall but stayed in good shape. Handsome even with the large glasses. Clean-shaven and with a nice, smooth brown complexion. Of course, I could be neurotic, but the booze certainly helped keep me fun and carefree. Less paranoid than normal. Especially tonight. Even Liz was surprised to see me all smiles when we checked into Coconut Hell.
Liz's short black hair and slender frame accompanied a wacky personality. Her poise was always strong. Liz the eccentric writer to my history nerd. Her green eyes beamed any time when we went on an adventure. And they sure as Hell did when we checked into here.
"Michael, put on the T.V.," she told me in a playful demand.
Grinning, I grabbed the remote and followed orders. "A little Snapped to get you hot?" my baritone voice joked.
"Maybe Forensic Files," she teased.
"I like the sound of that."
Like a battle cry, a rock star's scream erupted from the T.V.
And then came an infantry of electric guitars and harmonies. An alt-rock beat straight from 1994.
On screen, a grainy music video played. In the corner, white font spelled it out for us: "New Age Girl" Deadeye Dick
The band's enthusiastic roars grabbed our ears. Liz and I's drunken stupor captivated by this 90s gem.
I flashed her a smile. "You want me to change it?"
"Naw, Hell no!" Liz yelled. Adamant, she knocked the remote out of my hand. "Leave it here!"
Deadeye Dick's harmonies sounded even louder. Like a serenade right above my shoulder. I figured the station was turning it up. Channel 14 ready to get this party started.
Liz turned her sparking emerald eyes toward me. "Didn't Ben play this last time we were here?"
I let out a drunken chuckle. "Yeah, his ass almost got us kicked out!"
I felt a tight grip on my shoulder. With sloppy slowness, I turned but saw no one. Just the bite-sized bathroom behind me. The force of the band's roars must've hit me. But I was too drunk to care. And judging by Liz's cringey sing-along so was she.
"Mary Moooonnn!" she cried. Her voice reminiscent of a Southern banshee... a dying one.
So we let the infomercial play on. Baines Inc.'s 90s Subversive Rock Classics box set. We could get all these goofy, sometimes cheesy 90s hits for only $19.99. Everything from Spacehog's "In The Meantime" to Luscious Jackson's "Naked Eye" to Natalie Imbruglia's "Torn." I gotta say these were some gems... If Liz hadn't reminded me what century I was in, I might've called that toll-free number right then and there.
The commercial was almost five minutes. And completely strange. Outside of baby boomer-targeted local channels, I hadn't seen a CD ad on T.V. in years. Not only that but the commercial itself looked like a relic from the early 2000s. There was no attempt at hi-def, no mention of a web page or social media, and shit, Baines Inc. even offered the set on cassette tape... All while a hypermasculine deep voice kept telling us what a steal this was for twenty dollars...
Then again, the infomercial was about as weird as the channel 14 itself. The Booth Network. The channel's logo nothing more than a pale androgynous face. One with a wicked grin.
I'd never heard of Booth. Nor had a clue where it was being broadcast from...
But still, Liz and I consumed the music like drugs. These forgotten songs sweet nostalgic candy to our ears. The private concert swept us back to the 90s. Back to our childhood.
The narrator announced the reasonable price once more. And them came his barrage of shipping and handling fees. A machine gun of phone numbers and addresses.
"Party on to 90s Subversive Rock Classics!" the enthused voiceover proclaimed.
In a seamless transition, another infomercial appeared. On screen, an older white man stared back at us. He was skinny. Hollow cheekbones. His silver suit somewhere between a spacesuit and a Golden Age tuxedo. With trimmed gray hair and a smooth calm face, this host had the radiance of a bygone movie star. And an ominous voice ripe for black-and-white horror films.
Low-budget sci-fi music played all around him. The type of spooky theremin-made scores not heard in popular culture since the Kennedy administration. Yet the music was even more unsettling here in 2019...
Like a news anchor from the future, the man sat at a bland desk. His backdrop nothing more than a black wall, an empty galaxy. His harsh gaze stayed on Liz and I. His precise delivery said the words of either a madman or televangelist... or Hell, maybe both.
"This isn't just you," he said in a deliberate, gravelly voice. "Your life isn't just here on this Earth, but within layers. Many layers we can't see. Layers we can't understand."
Liz and I exchanged knowing smirks. Oh boy...
The host threw his arms up in righteous frustration. "You think that we're the only ones in the entire galaxy! Of course not. But no, it's not just aliens or extraterrestrials, not just them, but parallel worlds running alongside ours!" In crazy professor mode, the man's hand gestures went wild. "You got us here, but then you also have you hidden from yourself! The other you." He hit the desk for emphasis. "Maybe that's real or maybe it's the duplicate! But it's there. All the different timelines, all the overlaps! They're right here with us!"
Pausing, the man reached under the desk. Not for a cigarette or beer like I figured... but for a small remote.
"He's getting serious," I quipped to Liz.
"Oh yeah," she responded.
On screen, the host waved the remote around. His mannerisms, much like his lecture, long veered out of control. "You can find these alternate worlds if you look hard enough," he said. Discreet, he pressed a button on the remote, making the camera move in a little closer. "Pay attention to where you last placed things, remember the details." The music picking up, the man leaned in closer toward the screen. Closer toward us. "And most importantly, open your eyes!" With a dramatic flourish, he stood up. He now resembled a God in that black backdrop. "Because they're around you! And they've always been!"
Crawling across the screen, spooky yellow font spelled out a toll-free number. $19.99 for Dr. Dourif's Frightening Metaphysics.
"Come to Dr. Dourif," the hypermasculine narrator said, our 90s stoner now emulating a cryptic caretaker. "For the secrets to our world."
Like a preacher confronting his congregation, Dr. Dourif walked toward the camera. "You can see them!" he hollered. "They make mistakes and cross over here! If you pay attention, you can see the mistakes!"
The theremin music rose to a roaring crescendo. A soundtrack for Dr. Dourif's wild highlights.
Of course, the $19.99 and various phone numbers also returned for a curtain call. As did the narrator's speedy rundown of hidden fees.
Liz took a casual sip of booze. "We should buy it."
I nodded. "I bet it'll open our eyes..."
The five minute infomercial faded away. Liz and I now sat in front of a black screen. Everything became so quiet and slow. We heard no one outside, no one behind the thin walls. Even the smell of cigarettes had evaporated. Gone with The Booth Network.
Uneasy, I faced Liz. She was almost done with her Miller Lite. Liz always a faster drinker than me. "You wanna change it?" I asked, hoping my drunkenness kept my voice from sounding too scared.
Liz gave the T.V. a weird look. "There ain't nothing coming on?"
I forced a chuckle. "I think that's it-"
A rebellious scream interrupted me. 90s Subversive Rock Classics had risen from the grave.
Our private concert began once more. The same opening act: Deadeye Dick.
"They're back..." Liz joked.
This drunk, I was even grooving to the song. "Can we leave it here?"
"You read my mind!" Liz beamed. She held her longneck out toward me. "I'm liking that doctor too."
"So am I." I clanged my beer into hers. Cheers to 90s rock.
In an entertaining loop, both infomercials kept playing. Five minutes of cheesy rock followed by five minutes of the deranged Dr. Dourif. It was entertaining enough.
Like obnoxious theater patrons, Liz and I talked back to the screen. A few more beers in and we were even singing along to the music. Not to mention re-enacting the good doctor's many manic tics.
"You can see the mistakes!" Liz yelled in mock fashion.
"That's the greatest nineteen-ninety-nine we'll ever spend," I added.
Laughing, Liz gave me a light shove. "Don't forget shipping and handling!"
After thirty minutes of this infomercial double feature, Liz and I yawned in unison. The drunken karaoke had worn us out until the inevitable morning sex.
"You ready for bed?" she asked me.
"Yeah," I replied.
The booming theremin score drew us both toward the T.V. At all the toll-free numbers being displayed. The many addresses. And at Dr. Dourif in his eccentric element.
"If you pay attention, you can see the mistakes!" he howled.
The camera stayed on the man's fiery face. His wild eyes. His sincerity for the subject...
And then the show faded to black. Back to a brief intermission.
The T.V. cut off. I turned to see a smiling Liz hold the remote.
"Time for bed," she said.
"Gotcha," I said. In a drunken struggle, I managed to turn out the light.
In the quiet darkness, Liz led me to the bathroom. She hurled all our longnecks into the trash bin. A garbage pile of beer.
There the two of us stood in the cramped room. Inches away from each other.
I nodded toward the trash bin. "I'd say we got pretty close to college."
"Mm-hmm," Liz replied. Caressing my arm, she leaned in closer. "Hopefully, that carries over to morning..."
Like an alarm, the rocker's opening scream shattered our intimacy. Somehow, Deadeye Dick found their way back on stage...
"What the fuck!" Liz yelled.
I followed her out the bathroom. "I thought you turned it off!"
"I did!"
"New Age Girl" blanketed whatever silence we had. The glowing T.V. and nightstand lamp destroyed the darkness.
Amidst Deadeye Dick's catchy beat and insistent roars, Liz and I looked on in paralyzing unease.
Yeah, we stood right outside the bathroom. Right here at Coconut Grove. Right here in room number eleven. Our walls were the same putrid yellow. The plastic coconuts still surrounded us. And even the smell of cigarettes had returned.
Only I saw Liz and I lying in bed. Me in my boxers, Liz in her lingerie. Both of us holding Miller Lites. Exactly how we were a mere thirty minutes ago.
On screen, the band's roars continued. Their catchy chorus now hollow to Liz and I's horror. At least to this Liz and I.
In bed, the two of us were still laughing and smiling. Still enjoying the suburbanite spring break.
"You want me to change it?" I heard myself say to Liz number two.
"Naw, Hell no!" the other Liz yelled. We watched her knock the remote out of the other Michael's hand. "Leave it here!" she added.
"Hey!" the real Liz yelled. "Who the fuck are y'all!"
Supportive, I grabbed a hold of her hand. "Yeah, what is this!" I hurled at these... intruders.
But we got no response. Like a disinterested audience, the couple chose to ignore us. Disregard our cries.
Even when Liz reached out and grabbed Michael number two's shoulder, all he did was turn and look right at us. But he had no reaction... as if he saw right through Liz and I.
In a shocking epiphany, I recognized that confused look. The same one I had when I felt someone clutch my shoulder... only I didn't know at the time it was Liz's worried touch.
Drunk and indifferent, the second Michael just turned and looked back at the commercial. Entranced by the 90s-a-thon.
To my horror, I realized the doppelganger couple just didn't care. They were oblivious. Like the infomercials, they just stayed in their loop of drunken bliss. Their eyes glued to the T.V.
In the doorway, the 90s rock washed over Liz and I's ever-growing fear. Sure, our counterparts didn't see us. But we damn sure saw them...
Liz yanked me back toward the bathroom. "Come on!" she said in a trembling voice.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the trash bin. The now-empty bin. Our Miller Lite mountain was gone.
Then we came to a terrified stop. Even through the darkness, Liz and I could see the man standing right in front of the shower.
Even without the theremin score, the man was eerie. Like an ominous statue, he stood so quiet and still. His silver suit somehow glistened. His bright eyes laser-focused on us. And in that frightening instant, Dr. Dourif's many mad ideas became all the more clearer to Liz and I. The mistakes and overlaps in our realities all the more noticeable.
Dr. Dourif didn't even have to say a word. Especially not when that knowing smile spread across his lips.
14
submitted by rhonnie14 to foulweather [link] [comments]


2019.04.26 04:37 rhonnie14 Cameras mms hidden sex

We were back for the next party. Just a little later than anticipated. Ten years later. But hey, Elizabeth and I finally made it. We finally made the long-awaited sequel to our favorite spring break in Panama City Beach, Florida.
Only now we weren't hard-partying FSU students. Instead, we were twenty-nine and settled down in the suburbs. Married with full-time teaching jobs. And parents as well.
Yeah, we loved Sam and Carol. And raising them proved far more rewarding than any of the binge drinking and wild nights spent during yesteryear. But like a tantalizing time machine, the allure of reliving our youth came calling from time to time. If only for a weekend at least. A one-off shot at traveling back to 2012...
So, Liz and I set aside the time. We let the kids stay with my folks. And on a Friday in April, we left our home in pleasant Tallahassee for the decadent debauchery of PCB.
Maybe you'd call us sad. Two adult losers trying to re-capture a bygone era of blackouts and irresponsibility. But hey, you try dealing with kids every day. Both at work and home. Like an eternal rehab, family life had forced Elizabeth and I into stilted sobriety. Just a little bit of wine and beer on the weekends, our steamy sex only in spurts. I mean shit, sometimes you had to cut loose. And for one weekend, why couldn't Liz and I purge off our nostalgic sins? After all, what better place to do it than Panama City Beach?
So like a couple of overeager college students, we descended upon the beach. The water was still cold, but spring break was still going strong for all the waves of college kids. And us hard-partying parents.
Even commercialized by snowbirds, PCB was still a party destination. One chock-full of alcoholics, diners, and cheesy putt-putt golf courses and amusement parks that'd been there since the glory days of 1960s surf culture.
Noise was everywhere. During prime time, you'd hear obnoxious screams, incessant chit-chat, and a never-ending soundtrack that coasted from The Beach Boys to Nicki Minaj. Even in the still of the night, you'd hear stray stragglers and the peaceful lullaby of crashing waves.
Together, Liz and I got drunk on the beach. Indulged at Captain Jack's seafood buffet. Made an intoxicated investigation through the Ripley's Believe It Or Not! museum. And then we made our midnight rounds through the local Walmart.
The only problem was I'd forgotten to book a motel room. Honestly, I wasn't aware just how much the condominiums had conquered our college escape... The mom-and-pop motels of yore now gone with our early-20s. Needless to say, Liz and I couldn't get an oceanfront view. Instead, we ended up at the notorious Coconut Grove. Or Nut Ove as the roach motel's broken neon sign proclaimed...
Coconut Grove was two stories of a yellow eyesore. Like a stage full of Florida cliches, the motel featured skinny palm trees and a modest swimming pool out front. The bare minimum to attract desperate tourists.
Being a few miles away from the actual beach also meant cheaper rates. And cheaper rates meant more unsavory neighbors. With no shoreline breeze, their collective cigarette smoke dominated the motel's seedy atmosphere.
Around one A.M., Liz and I crashed in room number eleven. Needless to say, it was ugly as shit. The room only had one bed, a coffee maker, and a bulky T.V. I didn't even see a Bible in the dresser. Not that Sin City, Florida needed it. Or that Coconut Grove could even afford one for every room.
In the corner was a cramped bathroom unsuitable for anyone over two-hundred pounds. Apparently, Nut Ove had put all its money into nurturing those palm trees.
Every few feet, plastic coconuts broke up the monotony of our hideous yellow walls. The weak A/C unit did its best to stifle the room's cigarette smell. Our walls no match for the loud shouting and Jimmy Buffet soundtrack outside... To top it all off, this shithole wasn't even that cheap. We still had to pay the beach premium even when the swimming pool was the closest thing we had to an ocean view.
But Liz and I didn't complain. We'd stayed in far nastier places during the FSU days. And now for the first time in months, we had real privacy. A suburbanite spring break.
Together, we laid out on the stiff bed. Intoxicated and relaxed. A nightstand lamp our only light.
Both of us held a Miller Lite. Me in my boxers, Elizabeth in her lingerie.
I wasn't very tall but stayed in good shape. Handsome even with the large glasses. Clean-shaven and with a nice, smooth brown complexion. Of course, I could be neurotic, but the booze certainly helped keep me fun and carefree. Less paranoid than normal. Especially tonight. Even Liz was surprised to see me all smiles when we checked into Coconut Hell.
Liz's short black hair and slender frame accompanied a wacky personality. Her poise was always strong. Liz the eccentric writer to my history nerd. Her green eyes beamed any time when we went on an adventure. And they sure as Hell did when we checked into here.
"Michael, put on the T.V.," she told me in a playful demand.
Grinning, I grabbed the remote and followed orders. "A little Snapped to get you hot?" my baritone voice joked.
"Maybe Forensic Files," she teased.
"I like the sound of that."
Like a battle cry, a rock star's scream erupted from the T.V.
And then came an infantry of electric guitars and harmonies. An alt-rock beat straight from 1994.
On screen, a grainy music video played. In the corner, white font spelled it out for us: "New Age Girl" Deadeye Dick
The band's enthusiastic roars grabbed our ears. Liz and I's drunken stupor captivated by this 90s gem.
I flashed her a smile. "You want me to change it?"
"Naw, Hell no!" Liz yelled. Adamant, she knocked the remote out of my hand. "Leave it here!"
Deadeye Dick's harmonies sounded even louder. Like a serenade right above my shoulder. I figured the station was turning it up. Channel 14 ready to get this party started.
Liz turned her sparking emerald eyes toward me. "Didn't Ben play this last time we were here?"
I let out a drunken chuckle. "Yeah, his ass almost got us kicked out!"
I felt a tight grip on my shoulder. With sloppy slowness, I turned but saw no one. Just the bite-sized bathroom behind me. The force of the band's roars must've hit me. But I was too drunk to care. And judging by Liz's cringey sing-along so was she.
"Mary Moooonnn!" she cried. Her voice reminiscent of a Southern banshee... a dying one.
So we let the infomercial play on. Baines Inc.'s 90s Subversive Rock Classics box set. We could get all these goofy, sometimes cheesy 90s hits for only $19.99. Everything from Spacehog's "In The Meantime" to Luscious Jackson's "Naked Eye" to Natalie Imbruglia's "Torn." I gotta say these were some gems... If Liz hadn't reminded me what century I was in, I might've called that toll-free number right then and there.
The commercial was almost five minutes. And completely strange. Outside of baby boomer-targeted local channels, I hadn't seen a CD ad on T.V. in years. Not only that but the commercial itself looked like a relic from the early 2000s. There was no attempt at hi-def, no mention of a web page or social media, and shit, Baines Inc. even offered the set on cassette tape... All while a hypermasculine deep voice kept telling us what a steal this was for twenty dollars...
Then again, the infomercial was about as weird as the channel 14 itself. The Booth Network. The channel's logo nothing more than a pale androgynous face. One with a wicked grin.
I'd never heard of Booth. Nor had a clue where it was being broadcast from...
But still, Liz and I consumed the music like drugs. These forgotten songs sweet nostalgic candy to our ears. The private concert swept us back to the 90s. Back to our childhood.
The narrator announced the reasonable price once more. And them came his barrage of shipping and handling fees. A machine gun of phone numbers and addresses.
"Party on to 90s Subversive Rock Classics!" the enthused voiceover proclaimed.
In a seamless transition, another infomercial appeared. On screen, an older white man stared back at us. He was skinny. Hollow cheekbones. His silver suit somewhere between a spacesuit and a Golden Age tuxedo. With trimmed gray hair and a smooth calm face, this host had the radiance of a bygone movie star. And an ominous voice ripe for black-and-white horror films.
Low-budget sci-fi music played all around him. The type of spooky theremin-made scores not heard in popular culture since the Kennedy administration. Yet the music was even more unsettling here in 2019...
Like a news anchor from the future, the man sat at a bland desk. His backdrop nothing more than a black wall, an empty galaxy. His harsh gaze stayed on Liz and I. His precise delivery said the words of either a madman or televangelist... or Hell, maybe both.
"This isn't just you," he said in a deliberate, gravelly voice. "Your life isn't just here on this Earth, but within layers. Many layers we can't see. Layers we can't understand."
Liz and I exchanged knowing smirks. Oh boy...
The host threw his arms up in righteous frustration. "You think that we're the only ones in the entire galaxy! Of course not. But no, it's not just aliens or extraterrestrials, not just them, but parallel worlds running alongside ours!" In crazy professor mode, the man's hand gestures went wild. "You got us here, but then you also have you hidden from yourself! The other you." He hit the desk for emphasis. "Maybe that's real or maybe it's the duplicate! But it's there. All the different timelines, all the overlaps! They're right here with us!"
Pausing, the man reached under the desk. Not for a cigarette or beer like I figured... but for a small remote.
"He's getting serious," I quipped to Liz.
"Oh yeah," she responded.
On screen, the host waved the remote around. His mannerisms, much like his lecture, long veered out of control. "You can find these alternate worlds if you look hard enough," he said. Discreet, he pressed a button on the remote, making the camera move in a little closer. "Pay attention to where you last placed things, remember the details." The music picking up, the man leaned in closer toward the screen. Closer toward us. "And most importantly, open your eyes!" With a dramatic flourish, he stood up. He now resembled a God in that black backdrop. "Because they're around you! And they've always been!"
Crawling across the screen, spooky yellow font spelled out a toll-free number. $19.99 for Dr. Dourif's Frightening Metaphysics.
"Come to Dr. Dourif," the hypermasculine narrator said, our 90s stoner now emulating a cryptic caretaker. "For the secrets to our world."
Like a preacher confronting his congregation, Dr. Dourif walked toward the camera. "You can see them!" he hollered. "They make mistakes and cross over here! If you pay attention, you can see the mistakes!"
The theremin music rose to a roaring crescendo. A soundtrack for Dr. Dourif's wild highlights.
Of course, the $19.99 and various phone numbers also returned for a curtain call. As did the narrator's speedy rundown of hidden fees.
Liz took a casual sip of booze. "We should buy it."
I nodded. "I bet it'll open our eyes..."
The five minute infomercial faded away. Liz and I now sat in front of a black screen. Everything became so quiet and slow. We heard no one outside, no one behind the thin walls. Even the smell of cigarettes had evaporated. Gone with The Booth Network.
Uneasy, I faced Liz. She was almost done with her Miller Lite. Liz always a faster drinker than me. "You wanna change it?" I asked, hoping my drunkenness kept my voice from sounding too scared.
Liz gave the T.V. a weird look. "There ain't nothing coming on?"
I forced a chuckle. "I think that's it-"
A rebellious scream interrupted me. 90s Subversive Rock Classics had risen from the grave.
Our private concert began once more. The same opening act: Deadeye Dick.
"They're back..." Liz joked.
This drunk, I was even grooving to the song. "Can we leave it here?"
"You read my mind!" Liz beamed. She held her longneck out toward me. "I'm liking that doctor too."
"So am I." I clanged my beer into hers. Cheers to 90s rock.
In an entertaining loop, both infomercials kept playing. Five minutes of cheesy rock followed by five minutes of the deranged Dr. Dourif. It was entertaining enough.
Like obnoxious theater patrons, Liz and I talked back to the screen. A few more beers in and we were even singing along to the music. Not to mention re-enacting the good doctor's many manic tics.
"You can see the mistakes!" Liz yelled in mock fashion.
"That's the greatest nineteen-ninety-nine we'll ever spend," I added.
Laughing, Liz gave me a light shove. "Don't forget shipping and handling!"
After thirty minutes of this infomercial double feature, Liz and I yawned in unison. The drunken karaoke had worn us out until the inevitable morning sex.
"You ready for bed?" she asked me.
"Yeah," I replied.
The booming theremin score drew us both toward the T.V. At all the toll-free numbers being displayed. The many addresses. And at Dr. Dourif in his eccentric element.
"If you pay attention, you can see the mistakes!" he howled.
The camera stayed on the man's fiery face. His wild eyes. His sincerity for the subject...
And then the show faded to black. Back to a brief intermission.
The T.V. cut off. I turned to see a smiling Liz hold the remote.
"Time for bed," she said.
"Gotcha," I said. In a drunken struggle, I managed to turn out the light.
In the quiet darkness, Liz led me to the bathroom. She hurled all our longnecks into the trash bin. A garbage pile of beer.
There the two of us stood in the cramped room. Inches away from each other.
I nodded toward the trash bin. "I'd say we got pretty close to college."
"Mm-hmm," Liz replied. Caressing my arm, she leaned in closer. "Hopefully, that carries over to morning..."
Like an alarm, the rocker's opening scream shattered our intimacy. Somehow, Deadeye Dick found their way back on stage...
"What the fuck!" Liz yelled.
I followed her out the bathroom. "I thought you turned it off!"
"I did!"
"New Age Girl" blanketed whatever silence we had. The glowing T.V. and nightstand lamp destroyed the darkness.
Amidst Deadeye Dick's catchy beat and insistent roars, Liz and I looked on in paralyzing unease.
Yeah, we stood right outside the bathroom. Right here at Coconut Grove. Right here in room number eleven. Our walls were the same putrid yellow. The plastic coconuts still surrounded us. And even the smell of cigarettes had returned.
Only I saw Liz and I lying in bed. Me in my boxers, Liz in her lingerie. Both of us holding Miller Lites. Exactly how we were a mere thirty minutes ago.
On screen, the band's roars continued. Their catchy chorus now hollow to Liz and I's horror. At least to this Liz and I.
In bed, the two of us were still laughing and smiling. Still enjoying the suburbanite spring break.
"You want me to change it?" I heard myself say to Liz number two.
"Naw, Hell no!" the other Liz yelled. We watched her knock the remote out of the other Michael's hand. "Leave it here!" she added.
"Hey!" the real Liz yelled. "Who the fuck are y'all!"
Supportive, I grabbed a hold of her hand. "Yeah, what is this!" I hurled at these... intruders.
But we got no response. Like a disinterested audience, the couple chose to ignore us. Disregard our cries.
Even when Liz reached out and grabbed Michael number two's shoulder, all he did was turn and look right at us. But he had no reaction... as if he saw right through Liz and I.
In a shocking epiphany, I recognized that confused look. The same one I had when I felt someone clutch my shoulder... only I didn't know at the time it was Liz's worried touch.
Drunk and indifferent, the second Michael just turned and looked back at the commercial. Entranced by the 90s-a-thon.
To my horror, I realized the doppelganger couple just didn't care. They were oblivious. Like the infomercials, they just stayed in their loop of drunken bliss. Their eyes glued to the T.V.
In the doorway, the 90s rock washed over Liz and I's ever-growing fear. Sure, our counterparts didn't see us. But we damn sure saw them...
Liz yanked me back toward the bathroom. "Come on!" she said in a trembling voice.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the trash bin. The now-empty bin. Our Miller Lite mountain was gone.
Then we came to a terrified stop. Even through the darkness, Liz and I could see the man standing right in front of the shower.
Even without the theremin score, the man was eerie. Like an ominous statue, he stood so quiet and still. His silver suit somehow glistened. His bright eyes laser-focused on us. And in that frightening instant, Dr. Dourif's many mad ideas became all the more clearer to Liz and I. The mistakes and overlaps in our realities all the more noticeable.
Dr. Dourif didn't even have to say a word. Especially not when that knowing smile spread across his lips.
14
submitted by rhonnie14 to Horror_stories [link] [comments]


2019.04.26 04:36 rhonnie14 Hidden cameras sex mms

We were back for the next party. Just a little later than anticipated. Ten years later. But hey, Elizabeth and I finally made it. We finally made the long-awaited sequel to our favorite spring break in Panama City Beach, Florida.
Only now we weren't hard-partying FSU students. Instead, we were twenty-nine and settled down in the suburbs. Married with full-time teaching jobs. And parents as well.
Yeah, we loved Sam and Carol. And raising them proved far more rewarding than any of the binge drinking and wild nights spent during yesteryear. But like a tantalizing time machine, the allure of reliving our youth came calling from time to time. If only for a weekend at least. A one-off shot at traveling back to 2012...
So, Liz and I set aside the time. We let the kids stay with my folks. And on a Friday in April, we left our home in pleasant Tallahassee for the decadent debauchery of PCB.
Maybe you'd call us sad. Two adult losers trying to re-capture a bygone era of blackouts and irresponsibility. But hey, you try dealing with kids every day. Both at work and home. Like an eternal rehab, family life had forced Elizabeth and I into stilted sobriety. Just a little bit of wine and beer on the weekends, our steamy sex only in spurts. I mean shit, sometimes you had to cut loose. And for one weekend, why couldn't Liz and I purge off our nostalgic sins? After all, what better place to do it than Panama City Beach?
So like a couple of overeager college students, we descended upon the beach. The water was still cold, but spring break was still going strong for all the waves of college kids. And us hard-partying parents.
Even commercialized by snowbirds, PCB was still a party destination. One chock-full of alcoholics, diners, and cheesy putt-putt golf courses and amusement parks that'd been there since the glory days of 1960s surf culture.
Noise was everywhere. During prime time, you'd hear obnoxious screams, incessant chit-chat, and a never-ending soundtrack that coasted from The Beach Boys to Nicki Minaj. Even in the still of the night, you'd hear stray stragglers and the peaceful lullaby of crashing waves.
Together, Liz and I got drunk on the beach. Indulged at Captain Jack's seafood buffet. Made an intoxicated investigation through the Ripley's Believe It Or Not! museum. And then we made our midnight rounds through the local Walmart.
The only problem was I'd forgotten to book a motel room. Honestly, I wasn't aware just how much the condominiums had conquered our college escape... The mom-and-pop motels of yore now gone with our early-20s. Needless to say, Liz and I couldn't get an oceanfront view. Instead, we ended up at the notorious Coconut Grove. Or Nut Ove as the roach motel's broken neon sign proclaimed...
Coconut Grove was two stories of a yellow eyesore. Like a stage full of Florida cliches, the motel featured skinny palm trees and a modest swimming pool out front. The bare minimum to attract desperate tourists.
Being a few miles away from the actual beach also meant cheaper rates. And cheaper rates meant more unsavory neighbors. With no shoreline breeze, their collective cigarette smoke dominated the motel's seedy atmosphere.
Around one A.M., Liz and I crashed in room number eleven. Needless to say, it was ugly as shit. The room only had one bed, a coffee maker, and a bulky T.V. I didn't even see a Bible in the dresser. Not that Sin City, Florida needed it. Or that Coconut Grove could even afford one for every room.
In the corner was a cramped bathroom unsuitable for anyone over two-hundred pounds. Apparently, Nut Ove had put all its money into nurturing those palm trees.
Every few feet, plastic coconuts broke up the monotony of our hideous yellow walls. The weak A/C unit did its best to stifle the room's cigarette smell. Our walls no match for the loud shouting and Jimmy Buffet soundtrack outside... To top it all off, this shithole wasn't even that cheap. We still had to pay the beach premium even when the swimming pool was the closest thing we had to an ocean view.
But Liz and I didn't complain. We'd stayed in far nastier places during the FSU days. And now for the first time in months, we had real privacy. A suburbanite spring break.
Together, we laid out on the stiff bed. Intoxicated and relaxed. A nightstand lamp our only light.
Both of us held a Miller Lite. Me in my boxers, Elizabeth in her lingerie.
I wasn't very tall but stayed in good shape. Handsome even with the large glasses. Clean-shaven and with a nice, smooth brown complexion. Of course, I could be neurotic, but the booze certainly helped keep me fun and carefree. Less paranoid than normal. Especially tonight. Even Liz was surprised to see me all smiles when we checked into Coconut Hell.
Liz's short black hair and slender frame accompanied a wacky personality. Her poise was always strong. Liz the eccentric writer to my history nerd. Her green eyes beamed any time when we went on an adventure. And they sure as Hell did when we checked into here.
"Michael, put on the T.V.," she told me in a playful demand.
Grinning, I grabbed the remote and followed orders. "A little Snapped to get you hot?" my baritone voice joked.
"Maybe Forensic Files," she teased.
"I like the sound of that."
Like a battle cry, a rock star's scream erupted from the T.V.
And then came an infantry of electric guitars and harmonies. An alt-rock beat straight from 1994.
On screen, a grainy music video played. In the corner, white font spelled it out for us: "New Age Girl" Deadeye Dick
The band's enthusiastic roars grabbed our ears. Liz and I's drunken stupor captivated by this 90s gem.
I flashed her a smile. "You want me to change it?"
"Naw, Hell no!" Liz yelled. Adamant, she knocked the remote out of my hand. "Leave it here!"
Deadeye Dick's harmonies sounded even louder. Like a serenade right above my shoulder. I figured the station was turning it up. Channel 14 ready to get this party started.
Liz turned her sparking emerald eyes toward me. "Didn't Ben play this last time we were here?"
I let out a drunken chuckle. "Yeah, his ass almost got us kicked out!"
I felt a tight grip on my shoulder. With sloppy slowness, I turned but saw no one. Just the bite-sized bathroom behind me. The force of the band's roars must've hit me. But I was too drunk to care. And judging by Liz's cringey sing-along so was she.
"Mary Moooonnn!" she cried. Her voice reminiscent of a Southern banshee... a dying one.
So we let the infomercial play on. Baines Inc.'s 90s Subversive Rock Classics box set. We could get all these goofy, sometimes cheesy 90s hits for only $19.99. Everything from Spacehog's "In The Meantime" to Luscious Jackson's "Naked Eye" to Natalie Imbruglia's "Torn." I gotta say these were some gems... If Liz hadn't reminded me what century I was in, I might've called that toll-free number right then and there.
The commercial was almost five minutes. And completely strange. Outside of baby boomer-targeted local channels, I hadn't seen a CD ad on T.V. in years. Not only that but the commercial itself looked like a relic from the early 2000s. There was no attempt at hi-def, no mention of a web page or social media, and shit, Baines Inc. even offered the set on cassette tape... All while a hypermasculine deep voice kept telling us what a steal this was for twenty dollars...
Then again, the infomercial was about as weird as the channel 14 itself. The Booth Network. The channel's logo nothing more than a pale androgynous face. One with a wicked grin.
I'd never heard of Booth. Nor had a clue where it was being broadcast from...
But still, Liz and I consumed the music like drugs. These forgotten songs sweet nostalgic candy to our ears. The private concert swept us back to the 90s. Back to our childhood.
The narrator announced the reasonable price once more. And them came his barrage of shipping and handling fees. A machine gun of phone numbers and addresses.
"Party on to 90s Subversive Rock Classics!" the enthused voiceover proclaimed.
In a seamless transition, another infomercial appeared. On screen, an older white man stared back at us. He was skinny. Hollow cheekbones. His silver suit somewhere between a spacesuit and a Golden Age tuxedo. With trimmed gray hair and a smooth calm face, this host had the radiance of a bygone movie star. And an ominous voice ripe for black-and-white horror films.
Low-budget sci-fi music played all around him. The type of spooky theremin-made scores not heard in popular culture since the Kennedy administration. Yet the music was even more unsettling here in 2019...
Like a news anchor from the future, the man sat at a bland desk. His backdrop nothing more than a black wall, an empty galaxy. His harsh gaze stayed on Liz and I. His precise delivery said the words of either a madman or televangelist... or Hell, maybe both.
"This isn't just you," he said in a deliberate, gravelly voice. "Your life isn't just here on this Earth, but within layers. Many layers we can't see. Layers we can't understand."
Liz and I exchanged knowing smirks. Oh boy...
The host threw his arms up in righteous frustration. "You think that we're the only ones in the entire galaxy! Of course not. But no, it's not just aliens or extraterrestrials, not just them, but parallel worlds running alongside ours!" In crazy professor mode, the man's hand gestures went wild. "You got us here, but then you also have you hidden from yourself! The other you." He hit the desk for emphasis. "Maybe that's real or maybe it's the duplicate! But it's there. All the different timelines, all the overlaps! They're right here with us!"
Pausing, the man reached under the desk. Not for a cigarette or beer like I figured... but for a small remote.
"He's getting serious," I quipped to Liz.
"Oh yeah," she responded.
On screen, the host waved the remote around. His mannerisms, much like his lecture, long veered out of control. "You can find these alternate worlds if you look hard enough," he said. Discreet, he pressed a button on the remote, making the camera move in a little closer. "Pay attention to where you last placed things, remember the details." The music picking up, the man leaned in closer toward the screen. Closer toward us. "And most importantly, open your eyes!" With a dramatic flourish, he stood up. He now resembled a God in that black backdrop. "Because they're around you! And they've always been!"
Crawling across the screen, spooky yellow font spelled out a toll-free number. $19.99 for Dr. Dourif's Frightening Metaphysics.
"Come to Dr. Dourif," the hypermasculine narrator said, our 90s stoner now emulating a cryptic caretaker. "For the secrets to our world."
Like a preacher confronting his congregation, Dr. Dourif walked toward the camera. "You can see them!" he hollered. "They make mistakes and cross over here! If you pay attention, you can see the mistakes!"
The theremin music rose to a roaring crescendo. A soundtrack for Dr. Dourif's wild highlights.
Of course, the $19.99 and various phone numbers also returned for a curtain call. As did the narrator's speedy rundown of hidden fees.
Liz took a casual sip of booze. "We should buy it."
I nodded. "I bet it'll open our eyes..."
The five minute infomercial faded away. Liz and I now sat in front of a black screen. Everything became so quiet and slow. We heard no one outside, no one behind the thin walls. Even the smell of cigarettes had evaporated. Gone with The Booth Network.
Uneasy, I faced Liz. She was almost done with her Miller Lite. Liz always a faster drinker than me. "You wanna change it?" I asked, hoping my drunkenness kept my voice from sounding too scared.
Liz gave the T.V. a weird look. "There ain't nothing coming on?"
I forced a chuckle. "I think that's it-"
A rebellious scream interrupted me. 90s Subversive Rock Classics had risen from the grave.
Our private concert began once more. The same opening act: Deadeye Dick.
"They're back..." Liz joked.
This drunk, I was even grooving to the song. "Can we leave it here?"
"You read my mind!" Liz beamed. She held her longneck out toward me. "I'm liking that doctor too."
"So am I." I clanged my beer into hers. Cheers to 90s rock.
In an entertaining loop, both infomercials kept playing. Five minutes of cheesy rock followed by five minutes of the deranged Dr. Dourif. It was entertaining enough.
Like obnoxious theater patrons, Liz and I talked back to the screen. A few more beers in and we were even singing along to the music. Not to mention re-enacting the good doctor's many manic tics.
"You can see the mistakes!" Liz yelled in mock fashion.
"That's the greatest nineteen-ninety-nine we'll ever spend," I added.
Laughing, Liz gave me a light shove. "Don't forget shipping and handling!"
After thirty minutes of this infomercial double feature, Liz and I yawned in unison. The drunken karaoke had worn us out until the inevitable morning sex.
"You ready for bed?" she asked me.
"Yeah," I replied.
The booming theremin score drew us both toward the T.V. At all the toll-free numbers being displayed. The many addresses. And at Dr. Dourif in his eccentric element.
"If you pay attention, you can see the mistakes!" he howled.
The camera stayed on the man's fiery face. His wild eyes. His sincerity for the subject...
And then the show faded to black. Back to a brief intermission.
The T.V. cut off. I turned to see a smiling Liz hold the remote.
"Time for bed," she said.
"Gotcha," I said. In a drunken struggle, I managed to turn out the light.
In the quiet darkness, Liz led me to the bathroom. She hurled all our longnecks into the trash bin. A garbage pile of beer.
There the two of us stood in the cramped room. Inches away from each other.
I nodded toward the trash bin. "I'd say we got pretty close to college."
"Mm-hmm," Liz replied. Caressing my arm, she leaned in closer. "Hopefully, that carries over to morning..."
Like an alarm, the rocker's opening scream shattered our intimacy. Somehow, Deadeye Dick found their way back on stage...
"What the fuck!" Liz yelled.
I followed her out the bathroom. "I thought you turned it off!"
"I did!"
"New Age Girl" blanketed whatever silence we had. The glowing T.V. and nightstand lamp destroyed the darkness.
Amidst Deadeye Dick's catchy beat and insistent roars, Liz and I looked on in paralyzing unease.
Yeah, we stood right outside the bathroom. Right here at Coconut Grove. Right here in room number eleven. Our walls were the same putrid yellow. The plastic coconuts still surrounded us. And even the smell of cigarettes had returned.
Only I saw Liz and I lying in bed. Me in my boxers, Liz in her lingerie. Both of us holding Miller Lites. Exactly how we were a mere thirty minutes ago.
On screen, the band's roars continued. Their catchy chorus now hollow to Liz and I's horror. At least to this Liz and I.
In bed, the two of us were still laughing and smiling. Still enjoying the suburbanite spring break.
"You want me to change it?" I heard myself say to Liz number two.
"Naw, Hell no!" the other Liz yelled. We watched her knock the remote out of the other Michael's hand. "Leave it here!" she added.
"Hey!" the real Liz yelled. "Who the fuck are y'all!"
Supportive, I grabbed a hold of her hand. "Yeah, what is this!" I hurled at these... intruders.
But we got no response. Like a disinterested audience, the couple chose to ignore us. Disregard our cries.
Even when Liz reached out and grabbed Michael number two's shoulder, all he did was turn and look right at us. But he had no reaction... as if he saw right through Liz and I.
In a shocking epiphany, I recognized that confused look. The same one I had when I felt someone clutch my shoulder... only I didn't know at the time it was Liz's worried touch.
Drunk and indifferent, the second Michael just turned and looked back at the commercial. Entranced by the 90s-a-thon.
To my horror, I realized the doppelganger couple just didn't care. They were oblivious. Like the infomercials, they just stayed in their loop of drunken bliss. Their eyes glued to the T.V.
In the doorway, the 90s rock washed over Liz and I's ever-growing fear. Sure, our counterparts didn't see us. But we damn sure saw them...
Liz yanked me back toward the bathroom. "Come on!" she said in a trembling voice.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the trash bin. The now-empty bin. Our Miller Lite mountain was gone.
Then we came to a terrified stop. Even through the darkness, Liz and I could see the man standing right in front of the shower.
Even without the theremin score, the man was eerie. Like an ominous statue, he stood so quiet and still. His silver suit somehow glistened. His bright eyes laser-focused on us. And in that frightening instant, Dr. Dourif's many mad ideas became all the more clearer to Liz and I. The mistakes and overlaps in our realities all the more noticeable.
Dr. Dourif didn't even have to say a word. Especially not when that knowing smile spread across his lips.
14
submitted by rhonnie14 to creepypasta [link] [comments]


2016.02.28 03:36 Pig_Body Cameras mms hidden sex

Hello everyone,
My name is Thomas and I’m going to start this by simply saying that, while I have a nagging suspicion that what I witnessed was paranormal, don’t be expecting a usual ending. Or, actually, I should be saying don’t expect an unusual ending. I don’t die, I don’t go insane, I’m not rushing to type this as a monster walks around my apartment, I'm not a cat, and I'm certainly not possessed. My life is, pretty much, the exact same just with, well, this rather disturbing addition sorta worked in. But I’m here because this story is one I feel compelled to share for your sake and mine.
Well, now, I wouldn’t even really call this a ‘story’ to be honest; it’s more like a warning or a really wordy PSA. Why then am I posting here? I simply enjoy the site and I know that you, the people who use it, are the exact type who’d go looking for something like this. Go looking for what exactly? Well, despite me saying this really isn’t a story, I do want to tell it like one so why don’t we get some context.
My name is Thomas McKean. Why give you my full name? Because I want to add legitimacy to my claim. I want you to all to know that I’m a real person and one that you could easily look up online. If you search my name you’ll most likely find my great-great-great-great-great grandfather, the guy who signed the Declaration of Independence. But, if you look, I’m in there because, you see, I’m a writer. It’s my life, my passion, my dream.
In short, I like to write stories. I wrote and directed an audio drama podcast, I’ve been published twice, and I’m going to film school so that I have a degree that says, ‘Hey, I love to make and write all sorts of things’. I’ve always wanted to direct and write film; so much so that I developed my own audio drama from nothing. I organized actors, written over 2000 pages of script, spent days editing, etc, etc. But, as much as I loved writing drama and mystery, what I really wanted to immerse myself in was the genre of horror.
It’s weird that in my childhood, from infancy to about maybe fourteen, I was terrified of just about everything. I remember not being able to sleep because I’d be so focused on what was down the hall outside my bedroom. I remember worrying that something would poke it’s head around the hall’s corner just to stare at me while I slept. I remember not being able to go into my sisters room because she had a doll and I was afraid it’d move when I wasn’t looking. Then, almost like a switch flipped in my brain, I embraced the dark. I started to seek out things that scared me. I haven’t the slightest clue why. I was the biggest scaredy cat I knew until I turned fifteen.
I started off with the basics, reading Edgar Allen Poe for instance. Once I’d read everything from him, I moved on to Stephen King. Once I read most of his stuff, I moved on to Lovecraft. Then Shelley, then Robert E. Howard, Barker, Anne Rice, Robert W. Chambers, Stroker, you name it. I’d read the ‘essentials’ for any horror fan so I decided it was time to upgrade.
My first true ‘horror’ movie experience was ‘The Shining’. I’d heard from people it was a movie that truly horrified. It was a movie that kept my mother up for months. I remember sitting in my room with the Kubrick Collection DVD and watching it in the dark. I was ready to be, for lack of better phrasing, scared shitless. Everyone were telling me how horrifying this movie was; I was really looking forward to not sleeping for a week. And you know what? It wasn’t scary. Not in the slightest. Despite me seeing that this movie was truly a masterpiece on a cinematic scale, it just didn’t scare me. So I moved on.
Slashers did nothing for me. In fact, I felt most times I was more irritated that frightened. ‘The Exorcist’ made me laugh, ‘Human Centipede’ was simply gross as was ‘Saw’, ‘Jaws’ took me out of it as soon as I saw the mechanics of the shark in the movie, ‘Night of the Living Dead’ was the same as ‘The Shining’, ‘Psycho’ was brilliant but again not scary. The only two films that have ever had a lasting impression on me was ‘The Thing’ and ’IT FOLLOWS’. Yet, even those didn’t have the lasting effect of horror I wanted. I even began to push the boundaries with films that lots of people feel are almost pornographic. ‘120 Days of Sodom’, ‘The Serbian Film’, ‘Baskin’, movies that major critics and sites have called down right satanic and inhuman. All of them, not scary. Disturbing? Maybe. Gross? Definitely. Scary? Not in the slightest.
So, here I am, someone who has seen so much and watched so many horrifying things that I’ve, in a sense, become desensitized. Lots of you may be thinking, ‘that doesn’t sound so bad!’ Well, let me just provide you with this hypothetical:
Let’s say that you’ve been happy for your entire life. Everyday you’ve seen the sunshine and smiled, you walked outside to feel the sun against your skin, hung out with friends and laughed along side them. Then, all of a sudden, you wake up and you no longer feel the sensation of happiness ever again. You go out and do all the things you normally do but now it just leaves you feeling bland. Everyone around you feels happy, everyone around you knows what’s supposed to MAKE you feel happy, but you just can’t know what happy is anymore. That’s what it’s like.
It’s like you’re missing a part of yourself-a part you can never get back no matter how hard you try. It’s like your brain just decided it no longer wanted to produce those chemicals in your brain any more. And, who knows, maybe there are some of you on this site feeling that right now! Maybe you’re on NoSleep trying to rekindle that childlike fear you had-trying to feel that piece again. So if you are, let me tell you, I know your struggle, but I’m a cautionary tale. And, I suppose, this is where the real story begins.
During my time working on my show, I met a lot of people I used to look up to. Writers like W.H Pugmire, Stephen King, Laird Barron, many of who are in the Lovecraft community, a community I’ve tried to immerse myself in. Lots of the writers and really large people of this community like to get together to play a role-playing game called ‘Call of Cthulhu’. We all live in separate corners of the world so we play on Google’s Video Chatroom App.
One day, me and the host of these games, Thom, were chatting innocently about horror as a whole. In the conversation we discussed how, today, lots of blockbuster horror films don’t actually scare true horror fans. They do ‘jump scares’, things that just startle a person but have no real lasting effect. It was here in this chatroom that Thom and I came to the realization that no movie, story, video-game, whatever, had actually scared us, period. They simply startled us in the moment.
“Games like ‘Dead Space’-,” Thom said through video chat, “-they play off things jumping out at you. How is that scary? Sure; if I’m trapped in a dark room with things coming at me, I panic, who doesn’t? But after all that, what happens? Am I now scared to walk down my hall? Am I too scared to go to the bathroom? No!”
“The last real thing that actually gave me a scare was ‘IT FOLLOWS’, but I got over that after a couple hours,” I said, checking over my sheet before we started play. “I remember being a kid and worrying about dolls walking down the hallway outside of my door. I can’t remember ever being that scared as an adult.”
“It’s probably just because we live and breath horror,” Thom replied. “When you write horror, live horror, watch horror, make horror ever single day of your life, what’s scary? Nothing. No creative horror is scary anymore.”
And Thom was right. I had found myself in the middle of a weird sort of paradox! In watching so many horror movies to scare myself, I was actually just desensitizing myself further. It was then that I decided to seek out and find the true ‘scariest movie ever made’.
My search started by just simply looking up ‘Scariest Movie Ever Made’ in the Google Search Engine. Yes, I know, how stupid of me but I needed to start somewhere. After being (unsurprisingly) disappointed at those results, I started messaging horror movie critics about the most obscure, most horrifying movie they’d ever seen. Lots of people said ‘THE THING’ or ‘ALIEN’. Even more people said ‘The Shining’ or ‘The Exorcist’. Only a few made reference to foreign films and even fewer referenced actually good ones. Then I met a amateur horror film critic who I will only refer to as K.
This is where I will start to hide identities, web URL’s, torrent listings, whatever links back to what I’m telling you about. I understand that people are predisposed to go out and find things when told not to. I also understand that there’s sort of a ‘confirmation bias’ factor in this. If it’s real, why not just tell you all everything? Why not provide proof? Because, this isn’t for you to believe or argue about with me. This is here because I’m telling you that you need to AVOID it.
K’s identity will be hidden because of two reasons.
Reason A: K is truly a nice person and K doesn’t need to be bombarded with questions about the subject of this thread.
Reason B: K is the one who told me where to find it. If I were to give you his real name or his Tumblr URL, you’d more than likely do what I did and, believe me, that’s a mistake.
I messaged K from a Tumblr account I made just so that I could get in contact with him. At that time, I had e-mailed at least six other review sites, horror critics, horror writers, whatever, and K was just some no-one with a Tumblr I, at first, forgot about. A week or two after I sent him the message, I logged back into Tumblr (after forgetting and resetting my password, mind you) and saw he actually responded. K informed me that he himself actually was going through the exact same thing I was. He’d seen so many things in the horror genre that he just sort of became desensitized to it. However, he did something I felt was going a bit too far.
K explained to me that after watching two dozen horrible foreign movies about murder or rape or whatever they were about, K did something many would never consider doing. K went to the Dark Web. For those of you who don’t know, the internet we use is actually what’s called ‘The Surface Web’. Surprisingly, the international internet is already censored by both Search Engine Corporations like Bing, Yahoo, and Google and the government. I know it sounds like a conspiracy theory but look it up. Now, there’s a definite difference between the Dark Web and the Deep Web. The Deep Web is just stuff that can’t be provided by basic search engines like Google and Yahoo. You actually have to go looking for stuff. The Dark Web is intentionally hidden and contains a lot of, let’s just say, unpleasant things. Illegal Sex Trade, Illegal Arm Sales, secret government documents, drug manufacturing, pedophile rings, snuff sites, the list goes on. In short, it’s really not the place for someone to just go traipsing around. And so, I’m not going to go into detail on how to maneuver through the Dark Web or what I did to get where I got. Many of you already probably already know the software needed to bypass it and, well, it just sorta makes me uncomfortable.
K told me in the private Tumblr message that he intentionally went on the Dark Web to find movies that were either, A, never officially released or, B, were intentionally not uploaded to torrent sites. He emphasized that he wasn’t watching snuff or gore films, he simply wanted to attack all lines of inquiry. The possible FBI crack down, apparently, didn’t scare off K. Instead, K went to a Dark Web forum (it’s identity hidden) and asked almost the same thing I’d been asking:
‘What’s the Scariest Movie You’ve Ever Seen?’
The site, according to K, was structured a lot like 4Chan. Everyone on the site was anonymous and there was absolutely no way of tracing people because of the servers and software used. At least, that’s my understanding, I really have no idea. While the Dark Web is interesting, it’s not something I want to dabble with on a regular basis. I’ve used it twice and you’ll know why shortly.
K posted on the site and, essentially, just waited for results. He told me that lots of people gave him links and navigation instructions to horrible stuff which, because of my comfortability level, I’m not going to go into detail about. However, K did manage to get a few actual, real responses. Some were from people clearly overseas, possibly China bypassing the Great FireWall, just saying their favorite horror movie. Some were trolls because, despite being the seedy underbelly of the internet, there are still trolls there. Some were people just like him who posted their favorite domestic and foreign horror film. But one reply caught K’s attention. According to K, it was simple. All the reply was was navigation instructions on how to get to a download. That download, K told me, was for a film titled:
‘Corps du Cochon’
This film, ‘Corps du Cochon’, is what this post is all about. From what I’ve gathered of the limited information out there, ‘Corps du Cochon’, translated to either ‘Body of the Pig’ or ‘Body Pig’ (depending on how Google Translation is feeling), is a Italian film made anywhere between the late 1930’s to the early 1990’s. I came to that conclusion after viewing the disturbing, unnatural movie because of the film used; Kodak Standard 8 mm. The Kodak film was originally marketed to the consumer market as a cheap way to film home movies, so clearly the budget for this particular production was bare minimum at best. Like, ‘Blair Witch’ bare minimum. Other than the type of film, I can’t tell you anything more about the period the movie was made in, mainly because it’s all shot in one location, the few characters in the movie never change clothes, I never see any cars, and it’s never explained when the movie takes place.
Why the movie also happens to have a French name yet be in Italian, I have no idea. The only real reason I know it’s Italian is because I took a semester of Italian in college and one of the characters in the movie says ‘bella’, the Italian word for ‘beautiful’.
Before I go into what the movie is about, let me tell you a few things. These important bits of information came from K first, but I’m relaying them to you. Why? I don’t know. Maybe it’ll be important later. These things are:
1.) Don’t open the .mp4 file on the actual computer. He instructed me to download the .mp4 file then transfer it to a flash drive. Then, I needed to delete the .mp4 from my laptop entirely. The reason is because, for whatever reason, the .mp4, after viewing, will destroy the drive completely. A software virus (I think) makes whatever drive the file is opened on speed up controllably until it either melts or explodes. K assumed it was either just the uploaders idea of a joke or it was the uploaders method of making sure the file could never be transferred or viewed more than once.
2.) Whoever uploaded the film put the movie out of sync. In the left-hand corner of the film, the uploader added white numbers that change each scene. For example, the first scene the movie starts with is numbered seven. The second? Number twenty. The third? Fourteen. The only reason why we know that these numbers are scenes is because of the disjointed nature of the film if watched beginning to end. If you watch the movie from 1-23, then it makes much more sense. Sort of. K theorizes that the film was in pieces when the uploader posted it to the Dark Web. Why? Neither of us know. (Maybe you all know??)
3.) There are certain parts of the film that K says to ‘not watch’. Apparently, something happens on screen that K feels everyone viewing should avoid. And he’s right. K actually prepped me and gave me a specific list of parts to avoid. If you do ever, by some hellish stroke of unluckiness, stumble upon ‘Corps du Cochon’ these are the scenes to avoid: Scenes 3, 5, 8, 12, 17, and the movies finale, 23. These scenes need to be skipped over entirely, as in: Don’t turn off the audio or look away, just skip it entirely.
4.) There’s absolutely NO way of finding this on either the Surface Web or the Deep Web. Go ahead and try, because I already did. I feel like this is both a blessing and a warning. It’s a blessing because there’s absolutely no way any one of you can find it without knowing exactly where to look on the Dark Web. And it’s a warning because I feel like there’s a very good reason it’s hidden. There’s no Wikipedia page about it, no information about the actors or the director, nothing. The reason behind this is because, unsurprisingly, ‘Corps du Cochon’ never actually made it to screen. This explains the lack of credits.
You now must be wondering what the film is actually about. To get right to it, ‘Corps du Cochon’, if watched without the ‘unwatchable’ scenes, is something like a weird mixture of Frankenstein and Pet Sematary. Vino, the main character, loses his son in the first two scenes. His son, Zeo, dies of some kind of disease and the film follows the fathers decent into madness. The entire movie takes place on some sort of isolated farm in, what I’m guessing, is northern Italy. I only guess this because of the white peaked mountains seen in the distance. My guess is those are the Alps. The better scenes of this movie are grainy to say the least. The worst of them are blurred beyond belief and shot terribly. Whether the film was somehow bad/corrupted or the rendering process messed with the quality, it’s hard to say. It’s barely unwatchable, to be frank.
The movie is, also, shot in a very strange way. For example, the majority of shots appear to be in first person from the prospective of Vino. There’s no real ‘cuts’ or editing marks that I can see. Some moments we’ll be seeing something from Vino’s point of view, with the actor probably just carrying the camera-the next shot we see Vino’s character doing something and the camera is stationary, possibly on a tri-pod.
Alright, back to the movie. My hope is that reading this is enough to quench your curiosities. That you all won’t actually feel compelled to go looking for the movie.
Scene 3 I, at first, skipped. K’s instructions seemed really serious and I did what he said, assuming it wouldn’t detract from my experience. But my second time watching it, I went ahead and watched Scene 3. Now, let me explain that while the camera shots don’t appear to be edited, but there are aspects that strike me that someone at some time did actually edit this. Namely? The music. Scene 3 involves a shot of Vino crying to himself, music accompanying him. The music is, definitely, unnatural. I did some looking and the music, I believe, is an example of Binaural Beats. It’s the same sort of thing that made those people who listened to the original Lavender Town theme go insane. The music playing is done with, maybe, two theremin. I don’t really know what, exactly, could make the strange, alien music that plays during these weird scenes but my guess? It’s a theremin. It sounds, actually, like something more electronic now that I’m writing this and thinking about it, but I don’t know exactly how they would have made it sound the way they did if it was made before 1980. I don’t know and, frankly, I don’t really want to know.
So Vino is crying in the middle of the floor, music accompanying him, and, all of a sudden, he stops and looks up. He then gets up off the floor and moves off screen. The camera doesn’t seem to follow him so, I’m imagining that the man playing Vino is not only the lead but also the director and camera man. The scene continues with a shot of a mirror and Vino stepping close to it. Vino, himself, isn’t ever in the shot, we just see his reflection from the mirror. The only lighting, it seems, is from the moon outside because it’s really hard to see anything at all really. Vino is stepping closer to the mirror, muttering to himself and with a look that looks something like a mixture of fear and insanity.
Vino then screams something in Italian (don’t know what, I took one semester of the language in college-all I can really say is ‘Good Morning’) and punches the mirror. It is now that I realize why K insisted I skip this scene. Despite the music making me both nauseous and deeply uncomfortable, when Vino breaks the mirror there’s something in the reflection. As the glass splinters and falls from the frame, in the glass that remains in the frame you can see large eyes that are sort of twitching around. From what I remember there were about maybe eight eyes in the broken glass in total. At this point Vino is screaming something like ‘pardon-a-me’ (spelt it phonetically because I don’t know what he said) over and over again. What really weirded me out was the fact there was no cut in the shot at all. Everything just sorta happened and I couldn’t really make sense of the effect they did to, A, break the mirror without actually hurting the actor and, B, how they did the eyes twitching in the broken glass of the frame. It could have been a special effect done digitally but I don’t know because of the quality of the video.
At this point it seems like Vino is talking to either himself or the mirror, all while the eyes are twitching uncontrollably in the glass. Imagine watching this at night alone in your apartment? It wasn’t pleasant. I know it probably doesn’t help that I don’t understand the language very well, but I feel like knowing what he was saying would just make it all the more uncomfortable. The reason why is because it seems like he’s having some sort of one sided conversation. He’ll say something between sobs and winces of pain, take a minute long break, then start again. Once again, with the music going, eyes twitching, and no change in camera position. It’s all one long, uncomfortable, continuous shot.
So, that’s where I’m going to leave this thread for now. I just realized that if I were to continue talking about this, it’d be a long thread. As in, really long. I may see who reads this, who’s interested, and what you all think. In the mean time, I may get back in contact with K and see what he thinks and see if he knows anything more about the film or whoever may have uploaded it to the Dark Web. I don’t think I want to post any pictures of the film online but I may post a photo of what it did to my two flash drives that I played it off of. If anyone can tell me what they think or their thoughts, I’d love to hear what you think but, again, let me explain that this is in NO WAY encouraging you to go look for the film. Not only is the Dark Web dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing or know where you’re going, but the film itself is both disturbing and, frankly, unnatural. I’ve been writing this all day and I’m tired so I’ll leave it at that for now. I’ll go into more talk about the film at a later time, maybe tomorrow if I have time. Please, if you’ve seen the film and know more comment but DON’T go looking for ‘Corps du Cochon’. I don’t want anyone to see it and get sick or never sleep again or something. This is me telling you what it is in hopes that it’ll be enough. Maybe it will, maybe it won’t. Thanks everyone.
-Thomas
submitted by Pig_Body to nosleep [link] [comments]


2013.02.12 19:31 Ferrisuk Cameras sex mms hidden

Last year i took a trip across the pond to go to a Dropkick Murphys gig in Boston as well as see a little of the north east coast.
Whilst in Providence RI i got talking to a Canadian who mentioned that he loved a british comedy called 'Saxondale' (A sit-com staring Steve Coogan based on a former 'roadie to the stars' turned pest controller).
This came as a shock to me as this program did not do very well over here and upon telling this story to my friends they remarked they had not even heard of the show.
Although i personally think that the show is far weaker than what i regard to be his best work 'I'm Alan Partridge', i was intrigued by his appetite for British comedy and have often wondered if i had met him again what other shows i would suggest he try.
As i am neither likely nor bothered enough to try to meet him again, here, for you, is that list.

  1. Im Alan Partridge
Steve Coogan plays a failed TV turned radio host (Alan Partridge) who, following the cancellation of his tv show and divorce from his wife, is reduced to living in a travel tavern and working 'the graveyard shift' at a local radio station.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k_IoPAd_Yw0
  1. Peep Show
Peep Show follows the lives of two men (Mark and Jez) from their twenties to thirties who share a flat in South London. Mark is financially secure, but awkward and socially inept, with a pessimistic and cynical attitude. Jeremy, having split up with his girlfriend now lives in Mark's spare room. He usually has a much more optimistic and energetic outlook on the world than Mark, yet his self-proclaimed talent as a musician has yet to be recognized, and he is not as popular or attractive as he would like to think himself, although he is more successful with the opposite sex than Mark.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GCC5lYl6bxg
  1. Phoenix Nights
Starring Pete Kay 'phoenix nights' is based on a group of people who work at a small community club in north England.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8xkRSuAPDdw
  1. Father Ted
Father Ted is based on two vicars living on a small remote island off Ireland (not technically a British show but was shown on British TV).
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_L6K6SM5sq0
  1. Big Train
Starring Simon Pegg and following in the tradition of Monty Python, the comedy of Big Train is based on the subversion of ordinary situations by the surreal or macabre.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5JQ8fun0jUA
  1. The Fast Show
A Sketch show that aired in the US as 'Brilliant'.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i6FXb3GKDHs
  1. League of Gentlemen
The League of Gentlemen follows the lives of dozens of a small town's bizarre inhabitants, played mainly by 3 actors in a number of different guises and make-up.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DGntH-aOlWU
  1. Trigger Happy TV
Trigger Happy TV is a hidden camera/practical joke reality television series.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RyeiMYDRbsI
  1. Phonejacker
A telephone based prank show
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MmJvujHG5DM
I hope you will find as much humor from any one of these shows as they have brought me.
I would in turn be grateful of any comical hidden gem your country may have produced that didn't get the worldwide recognition you feel it deserved.
submitted by Ferrisuk to comedy [link] [comments]