47 million

Newsies cost $5 million to produce on Broadway. It recouped that amount in seven months

After 1,005 performances in New York followed by a two year tour across the US they film the closing production with a budget of $2 million. 

A three day cinema release saw ticket sales of $3.47 million in the US alone. 

With international screenings still taking place this month, plus the encore cinema screening in the US on March 4th, I can’t see how anyone can argue filming successful stage productions isn’t financial feasible. Disney will only make more money with a home release of Newsies. I’m sure they will release it on DVD but this is something investors and theatre producers should keep in mind after their production has recouped it’s initial investment.

This success isn’t a fluke for Disney or Newsies despite it’s devoted fan base. Last year’s Miss Saigon and 2014′s Billy Elliot had similar success with their cinema screenings and subsequent home media releases. Between releases like this and BroadwayHD’s live streaming of shows, the future of theatre is to make it more accessible. Finger’s crossed more productions will jump on board!

NCIS:LA Ratings - 767

Numbers last night were fantastic!

I actually didn’t have high hopes due to the delayed start, but I was proven wrong.  Numbers were split by the half-hour, so we’ll see what the final numbers say tomorrow, but regardless, they look great.

Demo: 1.7/1.5
Viewers: 11.47/11.07 million

3

When Leanne Brown moved to New York from Canada to earn a master’s in food studies at New York University, she couldn’t help noticing that Americans on a tight budget were eating a lot of processed foods heavy in carbs.

“It really bothered me,” she says. “The 47 million people on food stamps — and that’s a big chunk of the population — don’t have the same choices everyone else does.”

Brown guessed that she could help people in SNAP, the federal government’s Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, find ways to cook filling, nourishing and flavorful meals. So she set out to write a cookbook full of recipes anyone could make on a budget of just $4 a day.

The result is Good and Cheap, which is free online and has been downloaded over 700,000 times.

Cheap Eats: A Cookbook For Eating Well On A Food Stamp Budget

8

get to know me: favorite wrestlers ≡  eve torres

I would love to look at myself as a role model because I feel like when you are able to have that many people, there is 47 million viewers a week, you are able to have eyeballs on you so I feel that it is the perfect opportunity for me to be a role model for younger women because so many women look up to the Divas. They are all amazing, they’re all sexy, they’re all beautiful, strong women, and I think it is a great way to represent women in entertainment. I would love to serve as a role model for others and kind of encourage women to receive education, to do well for themselves, be strong, and powerful.

Bed Peace.

A/N: Since I haven’t updated for y’all yet, I figured you would enjoy a random short to hold you over until then. It took me four months to write and I’m satisfied with it. I hope y’all will be, too. Enjoy. 😊😘

P.S., WARNING: you may experience extreme Chrianna feels. 🙊😻😏



Tick, tock, tick, tock….

The clock on Robyn’s wall constantly tick-tocked back and forth. Her body decided it was time for her to wake up. She groaned softly as she ran her fingers through her long ginger hair. She rubbed her eyes and stretched as she yawned. She looked around her Los Angeles apartment before her attention went towards the clock–2:30 p.m.

She finally had a day to herself. No photoshoots, no studio time, not a thing. She grabbed her phone and logged into Twitter before sending a tweet to her 47 million followers.

@Rihanna: Finally, a day to myself. Gonna take advantage of di$

She chuckled, tickled by her tweet. She hopped out of bed and walked into the bathroom to clean herself up.

Freshly showered, free of makeup and wearing a Marilyn Monroe t-shirt, Robyn climbed up on her California King bed bed and reached in the nightstand drawer for her Swishers and weed. Didn’t take too long before she had her head back against the headboard, exhaling clouds of smoke. There was only one thing on her mind and one thing she wanted to do. Well, rather, someone she wanted to do–him.

He’d been on her mind for the longest and every time she felt the urge to call him, text him, FaceTime him, direct message him or just anything to get in contact with him, her pride wouldn’t allow her to. After that bullshit with him and his foreign exchange student and then he had the nerve to get a girl pregnant?

Every time she saw a picture with him and that little girl, it made her smile because she knew he’d make a great father. But it also hurt her that he gave away the seed meant for her to another random. That cut deeper than anyone could ever imagine. Something somewhere inside of her still didn’t sit right about that whole situation, though. But she thought it’d be best to keep her thoughts to herself.

In the eyes of the fans, she was too good for him. Too high above. She’d be a fool to go back to him. She didn’t need him or any other man. She had the fame, the money and them. Granted, that was true, but those things didn’t keep her warm at night. She wanted marriage, a family. Many men would love to take her up on that, but none of them were him.

Her fans tried their best to push her in the direction of countless men. Even trying to revive “Aubrih”. That thought alone made her laugh. While Aubrey was great to work with music and performance wise, nothing romantic ever sparked between them. He, like the fans, took the songs and performances too seriously.

Main reason she decided to keep her life a bit more private. She appreciated her fans, but too many of them thought they knew better when it was her life, not theirs. Many of them had to be too young to understand or know what it’s like to be in love. What love makes you do, how it makes you feel. How only one person can make you feel so alive, yet so dead. So happy with bliss and joy, yet so angry and frustrated.

She decided to push her pride aside and grabbed her phone, scrolling through her contacts until his name popped up. She took a deep breath and pressed his number.

She looked down at her red colored nails as the phone rang once, twice, three times, four times. Just when she was about to give up and hang the phone up…

“Hello?” His sexy VA accent rang in her ear.

“Chris?”

“Robyn? What’s up? You ok? Something wrong?” He asked, causing her to smile at his concern.

“I’m fine. Look….are you busy?”



Chris couldn’t deny that he was a little surprised to hear from Robyn. After their last talk, he figured she was completely done and over him. From what he saw from the pictures paparazzi took of her and the pictures she posted on Instagram, it seemed like she was having the time of her life. Traveling all over the world, on every magazine cover, laughing and smoking it up with her homegirls. She seemed perfectly happy without him.

He, however, was the complete opposite. Granted, his probation being up after six long, tortuous years, being able to travel anywhere he wanted, making music, performing for his fans and of course, the visits from his daughter definitely made him happy. But he always felt like something was missing. Or rather, someone.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Robyn calling his name.

“Sorry. What was that?” He asked her.

“I said, are you busy?” She replied.

“Um, nah. I ain’t busy right now. What’s up?”

“Well, I was wondering if….you wanted to come by my place. We could smoke a little and just, you know, chill out.”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure. Let me put on some clothes and I’ll be right there.”

“Oh, if I interrupted anything-”

“You didn’t, Robyn. I had just got out of the shower, that’s all.”

“Oh.” She chuckled slightly, which made him smirk at her jealousy.

“I’ll be there in 15, aight?”

“Ok, see you soon. Try not to get caught by paparazzi.”

“You already know.”

He hung up and rushed upstairs to change his clothes. Putting on a pair of Polo boxers, he dressed himself in a white wifebeater, black basketball shorts and a pair of black and green Jordans. He covered his curls with a Los Angeles snapback and grabbed his keys and his phone. He covered himself in a black jacket and threw the hood over his head. Didn’t take long before he was in his car and speeding over to Robyn’s apartment.

He made sure to park his car down the street and put sunglasses over his face. Luckily, none of the paparazzi were out and his “disguise” worked for the most part. He walked inside and headed towards the elevators. He got on and pressed the button to her floor.

When he reached her door, slight feelings of nervousness  came over him. He shook his body slightly to snap out of it.

“Come on, man. This is Robyn. The woman you’ve been knowing for over ten years. Just be cool and act the way you always do.” He reminded himself.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. In a matter of seconds, Robyn opened the door looking comfortable and sexy as hell. She had her ginger colored hair in a low ponytail and he could see the nipple piercing peeking through proudly underneath her t-shirt. He had to fight the urge to stare, but all he could think about was the countless times his tongue and teeth played with the metal bar.

“You made it.” Robyn smiled.

“Told you I was.”

“Well, come on in.”

She made way for him to come inside and he walked in, unzipping his jacket and letting it slide off of him.



Robyn bit her lip as she watched Chris slide off his jacket, showing his muscular arms and his tattoos. She watched him take off his Jordans and put them aside before sitting on the comfortable, fluffy white carpet, resting his back against the couch. She snapped out of her slight trance and got comfortable on the black leather couch, laying down on her stomach. She handed the rolling paper and bag of weed to Chris for him to roll it up.

He gladly obliged and began the routine. Pretty soon, smoke filled the room and the pair were smoking it up and vibing to Robyn’s R&B playlist on her iPhone. Chris took a long pull from the blunt and French inhaled the smoke as he passed it back to Robyn. She took a long inhale and held the smoke in for a few seconds before slowly exhaling it out.

Chris even took a long pull from it and motioned Robyn to come closer. He lifted up her chin and used the pad of his thumb to part her lips slightly as he exhaled the smoke into her mouth while she inhaled it.

When they were done, Robyn put the blunt out and Chris climbed on top of her, staring down into her emerald green eyes. Robyn stared back at him, reaching for his snapback and slowly pulled it off of him, throwing it onto the floor. Her eyes brightened at the sight of the blonde tips that sat at his brown curls. He leaned down and let his lips become one with hers.

Soon, the pair were devouring each other’s lips passionately while she rubbed his curls and his hands groped and squeezed her thighs as they were wrapped around his waist. This is how it was supposed to be. Nobody trying to tear them apart, no drama, no leeches, no attention seekers, no overly nosy fans. Just them. Only them.

She sucked on his tongue softly, hearing his low groans and tugged at his wifebeater. Chris pulled away for a mere second to remove it and planted his lips against hers again. Robyn’s hands roamed all over his tattooed body. She wanted him. Needed him. Craved him.

Chris pulled her t-shirt over her head and stared in awe of her perky, perfectly round breasts, her flat stomach and the Isis tattoo adorned below her breasts. She was always perfect and amazingly beautiful to him. He lightly stroked his finger against her skin, feeling her shiver under his touch. He was amazed that after all this time, he still knew how to touch her and make her melt.

Feeling as though he’s stared long enough, he took her pierced nipple into his mouth, alternating between licks, sucks and nibbles while his other hand squeezed the other breast. Gasps of pleasure escaped from Robyn’s mouth as her fingers ran through his curls. He gently tugged at the piercing with his teeth, causing her to squeal softly.

He showed attention to the other breast while his hands moved down her body to remove her panties. He tossed them on the floor and kissed down her stomach, dipping his tongue into her navel. He grabbed her thighs, pulling her closer and bent her legs back by her head before slowly dragging his tongue up and down her slit. A loud gasp escaped from her lips and she looked up at the ceiling.

Chris flicked his tongue against her clit slowly, torturing and teasing her. A frustrated moan came from her lips and she slammed her hands against the leather couch.

“If you’re gonna eat, fucking eat.” Robyn scolded him.

She heard him chuckle and felt his lips wrap around her clit, suckling it hard and firmly. She moaned loudly and gripped his curls as she arched her back. He sucked and nibbled her clit, causing her to squirm and wiggle her body against his mouth.

She felt his tongue slide into her and dart in and out of her wet canal. Soon, his pace quickened and he rubbed her clit with his thumb while curving his tongue, licking at her g-spot.

“Ooh….fuck! Chris, right there. Don’t stop.” She begged to him.

Her eyes traveled down to her lover. Watching him become so focused in tasting her and so determined to make her come turned her on like crazy. It only took a matter of seconds before Robyn’s loud scream filled the spacious apartment and she came undone on Chris’s tongue. Breathing heavily, trying to calm down from her high, Robyn looked down into the eyes of her lover as he licked his lips of her nectar.

“Still so damn sweet.” He winked.

She blushed and pulled him closer to her before capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. They pulled apart for Robyn to help him remove his wifebeater and Chris slowly slid down his basketball shorts before letting his boxers follow suit, ending up in a small pile on the floor. She looked him up and down, drinking in the sheer perfection and sexiness that was Christopher Maurice Brown. She mentally thanked God, Mama Joyce and Clinton Brown for creating something and someone so unbelievably and unrealistically gorgeous.

From his smooth iced mocha skin that was heavily covered in tattoos. His bright chocolate brown eyes. His freckles that made him so adorable and boyish. His full, juicy, pink lips that made her own quiver–both of them. His body, which was beginning take on a more chiseled shape from his constant performing and dancing he’d been doing. Similar to how his body was in 2012. Ugh, how she wished she could have that year back. Then finally, her eyes settled on the monster between his legs, which rested against his abdomen.

The amount of orgasms, pleasurable convulsions and body draining squirting that his dick gave her…..whew. She couldn’t even keep count. All she could think about right now was how bad she needed it. Craved it.

“How bad you want this shit, Robyn?” Chris asked her.

She looked up at him. Lust, desire and need swirling in her eyes.

“You know how bad I want it.” She replied.

He shook his head, clearly not satisfied with her answer. “Nah, nah. I wanna hear you say it. How bad do you want this shit, Robyn?”

He grasped his dick in his hand and rubbed it up and down her wet center. He teased her mercilessly by just constantly slipping the tip in and out of her, enjoying the sounds of her moans and whines of frustration.

“All you gotta do is say what I wanna hear, Rihanna.” He told her.

“Don’t fucking call me Rihanna.” She warned him with narrowed eyes.

“Then tell me what I wanna fucking hear.” He demanded and tapped the tip of his dick against her clit constantly.

“I want it bad, Chris. I want it so damn bad, it hurts. I need it. Stop fucking playing with me and fuck me like you know you want to. You always talking about drowning in it, making somebody wet the bed, not stopping until 9 a.m. and how you gonna make somebody beg for it. Get to work then, nigga.” She spat, annoyed.

His eyebrows shot up and he smirked. In the blink of an eye, Chris pulled her up from the couch and turned her around. He held her arms behind her back in the prison guard position and plunged into her roughly, earning a loud moan from Robyn. He didn’t even bother taking his time. He stroked her walls hard, deep and rough–just like she liked it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Ease up a little, daddy.” She begged him, trying to free her arms.

Chris scoffed obnoxiously and held her arms back tighter as he continued his pleasurably brutal pounding.

“Nah, you was talking all that shit earlier. Take this dick.”

“You’re so….fucking deeeeep, though.” She replied in a whining stutter.

“You can take it. You Bad Gal RiRi, remember?”

She turned her head towards him and narrowed her eyes again. He removed one of his hands from around one of her wrists, crossing her arms behind her back and holding them with one hand while moving his hand up to her neck, turning her head back forward. He kept a comfortably firm grip on her neck while he increased his speed.

“You know this is my pussy. No questions asked, no wondering. This is mine, you hear me?”

She nodded her head, drunk on pleasure. He released his hand from her neck only to move it into her hair, yanking it back.

“This…is…my…shit.” Chris told her through gritted teeth with each and every stab of his dick, “Let me hear you say it.”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her voice was just about stolen from her due to Chris’s unrelentless pounding. It felt too good for words. It should be a crime for this to feel so amazing.

“I told you to do something, Robyn. I suggest you obey.” He moved his hand from her hair down to her clit, rubbing it quickly and roughly.

She whined and whimpered, unable to handle the double sensations as she squirmed and wiggled against him.

“It’s your shit! Fuck, it’s yours, Christopher!”

“That’s daddy’s good girl. You gonna cum for me?” He cooed softly in her ear.

“Yessss.”

“Cum on my dick. Now, Robyn. Let big daddy feel you squirt all over him and soak his dick with your wetness.” He commanded in a deep tone.

In a matter of seconds on his command, she did just that. He held her close to his body while she convulsed violently in his arms and her juices soaked his dick and their thighs. She felt higher than a fan and the marijuana played only a small part in it. That’s just what Chris’s loving did to her. Had her feeling high and on cloud nine.

He planted sweet, loving kisses on her bare shoulder and the back of her neck. He let her arms go free and grabbed one of her hands. He kissed the back of it tenderly and sucked on one of her fingers. He turned her towards him and stared into her eyes, caressing her cheek. He leaned in and planted a slow, tender and passionate kiss upon her lips. She returned the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Chris laid her back on the couch, never breaking the kiss. Breezy/Thugstopher was gone. This was Christopher. Christopher Maurice. Her Christopher. Her legs immediately wrapped around his waist as his lips traveled to her neck. Kissing, gently sucking and nibbling the skin lightly. He entered her once again, this time slowly and carefully. She gasped and moaned softly into his ear as he took his time and worked her body into his first orgasm and her third.

Christopher was a man that knew how to fuck and make love. She loved how he could be dominant and challenge her, but he could be loving and gentle. The bull and the fish–two complete different things that meshed together so perfectly well when it came to them.

When their wonderful session of passion and heat died down, they laid together in each other’s arms–neither wanting to leave each other. And they didn’t. They deserved this. It was nothing but them and the undeniable love they had for each other.

They could worry about everything else later. Right now, this moment was the only thing that mattered. Ironically, the perfect song filled the room from Robyn’s playlist.


Wake up, wake up, bake up

Gotta heat the vape up, let’s get faded

Gotta call your job, tell em you won’t make it

Ain’t nobody here, baby, let’s get wasted

We should just get naked

Cause I’ve been working hard and I know you be on that same shit

Every other day’s a different game that you just can’t win

I just wanna ease your mind and make you feel alright

So go head, tell ya baby mama you gon’ be with me tonight

What I am trying to say is

The love is ours to make, so we should make it

Everything else can wait

The time is ours to take, so we should take it….

6

Because there are 7 billion 47 million people on the planet, and I have the audacity to think I matter

I know it’s a lie but I prefer it to the alternative

I finally finished the first part of this monster

The text is from the song Tiny Glowing Screens Part 2 by Watsky, and i plan on eventually doing the entire song but wanted to post this verse first! because i love to make lance suffer

Beyoncé Knowles: 20 times Grammy Award winner, the second most honored female artist by the Grammys and the most nominated woman in Grammy Award history with 52 nominations. She has sold over 100 million records as a solo artist, making her one of the best-selling music artists of all time. RIAA recognized her as the Top Certified Artist of the 2000s decade. As of December 2015, Beyoncé has sold 16 million albums and over 47 million digital songs in the United States as a solo artist. Critics hail her as one of the best entertainers in contemporary popular music. Forbes magazine listed her as the most powerful female musician of 2015.

Taylor Swift: 10 time Grammy Award winner, at 20 she became the youngest person ever to win Album of the Year at the Grammys with Fearless, a country album and at 26 she became the only female solo act in history to receive that award twice with 1989, a pop album. She has sold 27.67 million albums (March 2015) in the United States, making her the seventh-largest-selling female artist. She has written every single song of every album she has ever released. She’s the only artist in history to have three consecutive albums sold more than 1 million copies in its first week. Swift owns the most awarded country album in music history (Fearless) and the most awarded pop album in music history (1989). This year, BMI will present Taylor Swift with an award bearing her name in recognition of her incomparable creative and artistic talent and influence on music lovers throughout the world. (This is only the second time in BMI’s 76-year history that the company has presented an award in someone’s name. The first was to Michael Jackson in 1990).

Adele: Academy Award Winner for best original song in a motion picture with Skyfall (2013) and 10 time Grammy Award Winner. She and Beyoncé hold the record of most Grammys won by a female artist in one night with six each. With 21 non-consecutive weeks at number 1 in the US, Adele broke the record for the longest number-1 album by a woman in Billboard history, beating the record formerly held by Whitney Houston’s soundtrack The Bodyguard.21 spent its 23rd week at number one in March 2012, making it the longest-running album at number one since 1985 and it became the fourth best-selling album of the past 10 years in the United States. 25 is the first album to sell more than 3 million copies in a week in Nielsen history, and only the second to surpass 2 million sold in a single frame. Adele is easily the best voice in music industry nowadays.

Beyoncé, Taylor, Adele, Gaga, Rihanna… You know one thing they all have in common? They make art maintaining true to themselves, they are unique in what they do, and that’s the key to their success. All these women can be successful at the same time in the same universe, crazy huh? Stop pitting women against each other.

In 2012, Harvard University said the growing cost of journal subscriptions was an “untenable situation” for the school’s library, which shelled out $3.5 million a year for them.

“Prices for online content from two providers have increased by about 145% over the past six years, which far exceeds not only the consumer price index, but also the higher education and the library price indices,” an internal Harvard memo read.

It’s not just Harvard struggling with these costs. An analysis from the University of South Florida found that “American research libraries spent 227% more for their journal collections in 2002 than in 1986. The CPI increased 57% during the same period.”

The frustrating irony is that universities have to pay these sky-high prices despite the fact they are the institutions funding the research in the journals. Similarly, taxpayers spend $140 billion every year supporting research they can’t easily access.