My boyfriend broke up with me out of the blue, shortly after I’d turned 19. His four roommates, around the same time, had started to get annoyed with him about other stuff, and they were all buddies of mine as we’d partied together in residence. So I go out to the strip club one night with a couple girlfriends and run into those guys and they start shit talking my ex, telling me I deserve better. My already drunk self allows them to buy me a ton of tequila shots. Enough that I get up on stage and take off all my clothes, participating in amateur night. This is extremely out of character for me because I am a fairly innocent honors student who doesn’t drink very much. So anyway, I win the $500 cash prize for the night and the ex walks in, to meet his roommates, as I’m up on stage getting my prize.
He then decided to tell me how embarrassing that was for him, as if expecting an apology for me having fun but I refused to give it. Fast forward to a year and a half later where I have a new, great guy in my life, and he still tries to get me to hook up with him every few weeks.
If you’re an innovative person with ideas about how best to deal with
your bodily functions while wearing a spacesuit, then NASA wants to hear
from you! The agency is currently soliciting entries in its aptly
titled Space Poop Challenge, posted on the website HeroX, to “source a system that routes and collects human waste away from the body” for “fully-suited astronauts.” The cash prize is massive.
I know this election is rough on you. Interacting on social media might feel like scratching off a bunch of lottery tickets except that instead of finding out cash prizes you find out your aunt is a Neo-Nazi.
But can you please please PLEASE not unload your emotional turmoil onto PoC and forcibly employ us as unpaid racial therapists. We’re already under enough stress.
This is perfectly acceptable:
“I had to unfriend [insert name] for being racist and I’m upset.”
This is getting iffy:
”I had to unfriend [insert name] because they said [insert incredibly graphic details of racist hate speech].”
And this is the worst:
”[insert name] said [insert incredibly graphic details of racist hate speech] but I’m too chickenshit to say anything about it to their face so I’m just going to complain about it behind their back and make you listen.”
Following a coast-to-coast casting call, a new group of houseguests will move in to a recently renovated Big Brother Canada house outfitted wall-to-wall with cameras and microphones capturing their every move.
BBCAN4 Press Release:
Following a coast-to-coast casting call, a new group of houseguests are moving into an overhauled Big Brother Canada house outfitted wall-to-wall with cameras and microphones capturing their every move.
BBCAN5 Press Release:
Airing exclusively on Global, Big Brother Canada plucks a group of hand-picked strangers from their homes, sequesters them from the outside world, and places them inside a house outfitted wall-to-wall with cameras and microphones that capture their every move. Competing for a grand cash prize, each week the houseguests battle in a series of challenges that give them power or punishment, voting each other out until the fate of the final two is decided by a jury of fellow houseguests.
Zones 5 and 6 are usually filled with fight clubs that stage fights for big prizes. Boxing, mixed martial arts, wrestling, free for all’s, bare knuckle brawls, cage fights, etc, are all taught by the different gangs that roam the sands. They’re not separated by race or age but more by fighting style and temperament.
Each gang has their own ‘stronghold’ or ‘haunt’ where they hold their own and host the occasional event. It’s known throughout the zone that you don’t take over someone’s haunt unless you want to start hosting their events and coughing up prizes/carbons for the winnings. Unlike the other zones the gang wars are mostly settled in the ring/cage/etc with the prizes ranging from cash to supplies and even all the way up to other killjoys.
There’s one haunt on the edge of zone 5 called ‘Drifters’ that holds mixed martial arts cage fights twice a month and draw huge crowds. There have even been whispers of exterminators joining the ranks for a quick match just to test their mettle with the ‘common’ riffraff. Usually these fights are held to work out sentences for crimes ranging from petty disagreements all the way up to capital murder. You face whoever challenges you in the ring and you fight until the ‘judge/s’ of the event decide that you’ve earned your pardon.
If you chose to continue fighting after you’ve earned your pardon then you can enter into winning whatever prize is up for grabs.
Despite the crowds and nature of the events BL/Ind doesn’t interfere or meddle in the goings on. Any Dracs or exterminators who enter events are usually off duty and haven’t attempted any captures during the ‘festivities’.
Pink Dot Academy Fashion in Los Angeles has been kind enough to throw an event for the Riviera University students, hosted by Heaven Brookes, as a way to celebrate making it through the first few weeks of school. This event combines two of people’s favorite elements; horror and mystery. Students will get a chance to participate in a Whodunnit murder mystery game. The goal of the night will be to find the correct culprit and prove why they are “who done it”. The first two people who figure out the mystery will win a $600 cash prize, courtesy of the Pink Dot Academy. This money can help pay for books, partial tuition, or if you just want to treat ‘yoself.
WHEN IT IS: FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 24TH,8:00 PM EST
WHERE IT’S AT: The event will be at the Riviera Haunted Mansion, which is in Riviera Heights. You may drive yourself or take one of the Ubers provided by the PDA.
WHAT TO WEAR: You can come in costume of any genre, but horror is preferred. If you don’t want to come in costume, formal attire is also good.
FOOD AND DRINKS: There will be a formal sit down dinner that serves you the food of your choice, but once the action starts happening, you can visit the open buffet and snack table throughout. It will serve mini wings, a variety of chips and candy, sodas, water, and alcohol for those of you 21+.
WARNINGS & EXTRAS: The event will contain paranormal and frightening themes, but remember none of it is actually happening. Someone may touch you or get in your face, but it is not real. It’s a planned event with actors and a plot, so if you see something scary, you won’t die. Also, you may work in partners to figure out whodunnit, but you can also work alone. More intricate info will be posted on the day of the event. Remember, this is supposed to be FUN! So don’t take it too seriously.
Okay, so: in a SB AU Regina organises a Murder Mystery dinner at the old abandoned mansion (the apprentice’s house). To tempt people into really committing to it City Hall offers a cash reward to whatever public institution the winner chooses. Mary Margaret, for example, wants it for the school. David Nolan for the shelter, Emma for the sheriff’s office.
Belle French, librarian, sees is as the only way to afford some very necessary structural repairs to the library so she goes all in. She rents a vintage dress from Gold’s for the occasion and is determined to be the winner.
Unknowingly to her Mr Gold is also determined to win, in order to give the cash prize to the library and make the beautiful librarian happy. And as a bonus he got to dress her up in a devastating 1930′s ballgown, which he fixed up with the utmost care.
Cue the night of the dinner, and to Gold’s surprise when the character cards are distributed he finds himself cast as a Colonel… married to Miss French’s character. And passionately in love, as their cards stress. Since both are determined to win and to do so they must play their parts perfectly and solve the murder they dive right into their roles with a little bit too much gusto.
Bonus points for inclusion of: kissing as a way to cover up their snooping to win, PDAs that begin as carefully staged and then devolve into actual displays of affection, a jealous Zelena having to play the maid (but determined to play “maid who has an affair with the colonel even if it’s not in the fucking cards, Regina is not amused”), Emma being incredibly sarcastic throughout the dinner and the unlikeliest person being the killer.
“Go Y/N Go!” You friend shouted from the bleachers waving around a huge banner.
You smiled as your body hit the water, the familiar feeling of the blue waves lapping over you as you put one arm in front of the other, trying to free-style your way to the other end of the pool. This was the spring championships and you had been training hard all year just for this event. It was the big shot in the swimming universe and all you wanted was to do your team proud. Your mom was watching. Your friends had come to support you. You had a cash prize, a trophy and a leading title to defend. You were nervous, but you couldn’t lose. Not now. It simply wasn’t an option.
You took a deep breath and dove in, doing the familiar arm and leg movements you had been practicing every weekend.
You urged your body to go quicker, taking a lead on your opponent as you kicked your legs and stretched your arms out in circular motions trying your best to get there before she did. You could see the end point drawing nearer and nearer. You could feel the victory in your bones. You smiled as you kept up a good pace, feeling the adrenaline course through you, almost tasting the sweet, sweet success on your tongue.
GTA AU : N I G H T R I D E R S - T A E K O O K — a playlist for the ride or die duo that stand on the precipice between business and pleasure; revved engines, cash prizes, adrenaline rushes, late night drives & catching feelings. you’re dealing with the wildcards.
You shifted nervously backstage. When you had received a letter in the mail that you would be able to get a cash prize that would cover your university fees in full, you jumped at the chance. But now, you were worried about what you had signed up for. It was the first episode of the game show. Maybe you should have waited until you watched a few contestants from home before deciding to participate.
“Now, are you ready to meet your first contestant?” The host asked. The crowd roared in response.
The woman standing next to you listened to something in her earpiece before ushering you forward, “Good luck,” You weren’t sure if you were just hearing things, but it seemed that it was more of a warning than anything else.
You walked out onto the stage, the crowd growing louder as you approached the host. You were so nervous. You had never been on TV before. You had called your family and told them to watch, hoping that they would be able to see you win a glorious prize.
The host was attractive, tall with dark hair. He had a cute little conversation with you about who you were and why you had joined the show. He was quite charming.
With a flourish, he returned his attention to the audience, “Well then. Are you ready to start the show?” The crowd screamed and waved, “Then let’s get started!” He gestured behind him, where the floor opened up to reveal a chair. You had never seen anything like it. You fidgeted nervously, wondering what it was for. The game show’s synopsis had been vague. You knew that there was some sort of punishment involved, but it hadn’t specified on the form.
The host led you over to the chair. You sat down. Metal bands immediately snapped over your wrists and ankles, keeping you in place. You were surprised, but didn’t fight back. It was probably for your own safety, so you kept still.
“In this show, we have a penalty that’s never been seen before,” The host explained, “First, a little dose of something special,” He revealed a needled syringe, sticking it into your hip and emptying it into your body. At first, nothing happened. After a few seconds, however, you felt your body grow hot. You squirmed in your chair, becoming more and more uncomfortable. You had never been so turned on before. You tried rubbing your thighs together to get rid of the ache, but nothing worked.
“Second, preparation for our show’s penalty,” He brandished a pair of scissors, cutting your clothes from your body. You tried to escape the chair, but you weren’t strong enough. You opened your mouth to tell him to stop, only for him to cover his microphone with his hand, “You signed up for this, sweetheart. I hope you’re ready,” He winked before once again turning to the audience. You couldn’t believe this. You were naked in front of hundreds of people. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You hoped that your family wasn’t watching. Sure, there were plenty of game shows involving nudity, but you hadn’t been prepared for this.
“Now, for the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” The host held out his arm toward you. The chair suddenly shifted. You were leaned back, your legs spread and knees bent. Your eyes widened, knowing that you were bare for the world to see. You tried to ask the host what was going on, only for something to prod against your entrance. Before you could react, it shoved itself as far as it could go. You cried out, the crowd drinking in your discomfort. You glanced to one of the screens that you could see. It was a tube. You forced yourself to breathe slowly. You were fine. You would win the cash prize.
“Now, it’s time to explain the show we have in store for you,” The host smiled, still so charismatic despite having you in such a compromising position right next to him, “You, my dear little contestant have been injected with a fertility drug. I’m going to ask you twenty questions. For every correct answer, more money will be added to your total. For every wrong answer, you’ll be impregnated.”
You froze, eyes widening. He couldn’t be serious. The crowd was loving it, clearly in on the whole ploy from the start. You were speechless. You didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t get pregnant now. You were halfway through university. You wouldn’t be able to continue your education while caring and providing for children.
“Now, the real challenge is the bonus question at the end. If you get it right, you get all of the money you’ve earned and your pregnancy will be reversed. If you get it wrong, then you don’t get the money and you’ll have to carry your baby, or babies, to term. You’ll stay here with us on the show so we can check on your progress every week until you give birth, which will be a special after-show,” The crowd cheered once again, “So, are you ready to begin your quiz?”
You didn’t have a choice. You had signed up for this. The show was live. They wouldn’t let you go now. Besides, you needed that money. The show’s practice questions had all been based on elementary school level classes, so you were bound to get through the questions and get the maximum amount of prize money. You nodded.
“Alright, first question: who founded the Icelandic town of Hofn?”
This had to be some sort of joke. Such a trivial question was the opposite of what had been advertised in the game show’s pamphlet. You stared at the host, his grin only widening as you hesitated. You didn’t know the answer. You doubted anyone in the audience knew that answer.
“We need an answer, sweetheart,” The host gestured to the clock counting down.
You swallowed thickly. You were already off to a horrible start. Maybe they always made one question hard on purpose, just to add a bit of tension. You shook your head, “I-I don’t know.”
The crowd cooed in response, but you knew that they weren’t on your side. They were all fidgeting in their chairs, waiting for your punishment to begin.
“Oh dear,” The host pretended to be upset, though he still seemed as vibrant as ever, “You know what a wrong answer means.”
The chair whirred beneath you, a thick liquid bubbling up the tube and into your entrance. With nowhere for it to go, it moved further into your body. By the time the machine stopped, your belly was slightly distended. You watched the screen fearfully, waiting.
Pressure suddenly overtook your womb, swelling outward. You groaned in pain, a new weight added between your hips. The crowd cheered, some of them already quite aroused.
They had tricked you. All of the questions were so specific. Even the ones that you thought you had known the answer to were still judged as wrong by some technicality. Each time you answered a question wrong and more fluid was pumped into your womb, your belly rolled outward with yet another child. By the fifth, you were sweaty and squirming as your breasts leaked milk. On the tenth question, the tube had started moving to distract you. They were deliberately sabotaging you. The pace increased whenever you were about to answer, rendering your words useless as your back arched with yet another orgasm. They hooked you up to breast pumps after the fifteenth question, adding further humiliation and arousal. Some of the audience members looked like they were about to jump out of their seats, pull the tube from your entrance, and fuck you until they were empty to add their children to your growing belly.
As a special treat for the audience, the show had a quick raffle after the twentieth question. Those who wanted to participate had to pay in order to get their tickets put into the draw. Men jumped up, emptying their wallets and draining their credit cards. You watched the screen in horror. You were already so full. You had answered all twenty questions wrong. There were twenty babies inside of you. And they wanted to add more. Your womb was filled to the brim. You weren’t sure if another would fit.
The host remained by your side, rubbing his free hand over your stomach as he talked into the microphone to sell more raffle tickets. The contents of your womb were displaced with his touch, the weight moving around. You were gasping for air from both arousal and the heaviness. Each little shift was sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. The tube was still thrusting inside of you, but its pace was lazy. They wouldn’t let you orgasm unless it was beneficial for them. You squirmed. You didn’t know how long the gestation would be, but you already looked heavily pregnant.
“Ah, all of the tickets have been collected, I see,” The host beamed. The same woman that had ushered you on stage carried a bowl full of tickets to the host, who swirled his hand around before pulling a single slip, “Number 2398!”
A man got up from a row close to the front, holding up his own copy of the ticket. He was brought in front of you. You could see the bulge in his pants. He wore a suit that looked more expensive than all of your university expenses combined. His gaze swept over your form, his smirk growing. He could clearly afford to buy countless tickets without putting so much as a dent into his bank accounts.
“You’re quite the lucky man,” The host grinned, “You’ve won the chance to get your own turn with our darling little contestant!”
The rest of the crowd either cheered at the notion of an intimate show or groaned because their ticket hadn’t been chosen. The man in the suit loosened his tie, slipping it from his collar. He unbuttoned his jacket as the tube was pulled from your body. You whimpered at the sudden emptiness, only for the man to free himself from his trousers and thrust into you. Your breathing was ragged as he grabbed your hips and moved deeper inside of you. The pace he initiated was slow but rough. You gripped the arms of the chair in an attempt to keep yourself grounded and focused on something other than what was buried between your thighs. But the fertility drug you had been dosed with was too potent and the babies rolling around in your stomach were bumping against every sweet spot you didn’t know you had. It wasn’t long before you and the man in the suit were both on the brink of release. His grip on you was bruising as each thrust became harder and deeper. You moaned with every movement. You couldn’t think of anything else but the heavenly orgasm you would have. Your family could be watching in horror as you were fucked on live television, but you merely begged for more.
You cried out, waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your legs quivered, chest heaving with each breath. Your walls twitched around the man, leading him to his own release. He buried himself to the hilt, the familiar heat pooling against your womb. Your stomach rolled outward again to accommodate your twenty-first child. He removed himself from your body and composed himself, though his hair was still disheveled and he wasn’t wearing his tie.
A bell sounded. You tensed a bit. It was the same noise they had used when you failed to answer a question.
The host frowned, though you could still see the amusement in his eyes, “Oh dear, you were so busy having fun that you were unable to answer the bonus question. That means that you’ve lost our little game. You’re be staying with us and you’ll keep your babies.”
“What?” They had tricked you again. They had distracted you so you wouldn’t be able to answer the question. You would have to carry all of your babies to term. All twenty-one of them. Tears filled your eyes, “No, you can’t-” You were interrupted by the tube once again thrusting into your entrance.
The host smiled, rubbing his hand over your stomach and keeping the microphone away from his face, “There’s just a few terms for your contract here with us. You’ll stay with us and we’ll provide you with everything you need. In exchange, the entire staff and anyone that pays well enough gets to use you however they like,” He winked, “Which includes me. You’ll give birth to all of your little darlings on a live special after the main show. If you go into labor before that, we’re going to keep those babies inside of you until the main show is over. We can’t be cutting into one program to show another,” He smiled, brushing your damp hair away from your face, “We’re also planning on a special season finale. All of the fan favourites will come back to play again with even more at stake. Since you were the first contestant in our show, you’re shoe-in to be selected.”
Two workers began to wheel you off stage, the breasts pumps and tube still whirring. You squirmed, tears streaming down your cheeks.
The host waved as you left, then turned back to the audience, “Now, then, for our second contestant of the show!”
Daisuke Yokota (1983, JP), Foam Talent from 2013, was awarded the 2016 Foam Paul Huf Award last week. In addition to a cash prize, he will receive a solo exhibition at Foam Fotografiemuseum Amsterdam later this year.
Submit your work to Foam Talent Call 2016 before March 28th on foamtalent.com.
Yvette Nicole Brown to Host Syfy Cosplay Competiton Series
Syfy is launching a cosplay competition series hosted by Yvette Nicole Brown.
In Cosplay Melee, premiering March 21 on the cable network, the world’s most innovative cosplayers will face off each week for a chance to win a cash prize. In each episode, the Community alum will host four world-class cosplayers, who will compete to create not only intricate full-body costumes but fully-formed characters that they must bring to life through their own realistic performance.
Guiding and critiquing them are a panel of judges including renowned cosplayer LeeAnna Vamp and A-list costume creator Christian Beckman (The Hunger Games). The winner will walk away with $10,000. Jay Peterson and Todd Lubin of Matador Content, the company behind Lip Sync Battle, will serve as executive producers on the competition series.
“Cosplay is passion, artistry, engineering and theater all rolled into one,” said Heather Olander, senior vice president of alternative development and production at USA/Syfy. “At the intersection of the maker world and fandom, the incredible artists of Cosplay Melee will blow your minds with their transformational creations.”
“As a huge fan of the creativity cosplayers bring to their craft, nothing makes me happier than having a front row seat for the amazing creations set to hit the Cosplay Melee runway,” added Brown. “These talented artists are going to shine.”
Brown, who began her television career on Girlfriends and currently stars as Dani on the reboot of The Odd Couple (a CBS show currently on the bubble), recently starred in The New Edition Story. Her film credits include Little Black Book, Tropic Thunder and Dreamgirls. Brown, a regular guest on AMC’s Talking Dead, has also lent her voice for several animated characters, including roles on Family Guy, Pound Puppies and Yellowbird.