radio event

country singer bitty accidentally writes a hit about nhl player jack

Based on this post about the inspiration for Dolly Parton’s Jolene, which is somehow even gayer than the song itself. Bless you, Dolly.


It had started out so innocently.

Bitty had been tired after hours of this meet n’ greet, and when that tall drink of water walked up to get his autograph, Bitty couldn’t help the words that tumbled out of his mouth.

“Gosh, well aren’t you the most handsome fella I’ve ever seen,” he said, reached for the outstretched CD–CD! Who even bought CDs anymore?–and readied his Sharpie. “What’s your name, hun?”

“Uh, Jack,” the man said, pretty eyes going wide. If he’d been more awake, Bitty might’ve felt bad for making a fan uncomfortable. But if this Jack really were a fan, then he certainly wouldn’t have a problem with another man complimenting him. And besides, he was handsome, with his wide shoulders and high cheekbones and eyes as blue as the summer sky.

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엑소 수호, 세훈씨가 엔나나에 놀러왔어요😻

친한 형들과 이야기 할 수 있어서 오늘은 좀 색달랐다는 쟌디재디 🤗
‘세수'분들 다음에 또 놀러오세요오🎈 
여러분 '세수'하고 '재쟈'요😻🎶 #잘생긴사람🌝->#잘생긴사람🌝#잘생긴사람🌝->#잘생긴사람🌝

Another story

It’s Gladio, but he’s a part-time writer and loves to listen to the radio.

It’s always the same radio station, at the same hour. The Astrals were kind to him, and it happens that he’s already done with work-shift and he gets to listen to the same program during his drive home.

Usually, as soon as he gets in his car, there’s news on the radio. There’s the weather report ever fifteen minutes, and he catches only one before the news are done for a few hours and the program starts; it’s some sort of discussion table, but with only three broadcasters. They talk the relevant events of Lucis, the latest polemic trend, or, Gladio’s favorite, just philosophy and life and cosmos stuff.

Where they think life comes from, opinions on the dressing code, why certain event was wrong, if (X) author deserved the Aurora prize for literature that year, where they think the throne family’s magic comes from, are we alone in the universe, will we be sucked by a black hole, do we reincarnate, polemic trends, who was right and who was wrong in X trial, whether breaking laws is always ‘wrong’, the string theory, any matter to discuss, in two hours.

And Gladio enjoys of the entire discussion.

And Gladio loves one of the broadcasters’ voice.

He wouldn’t lie if you ask him, what first caught Gladio was the mere color of the voice. A delicious tenor, almost baritone, with a Tenebraean accent. A voice that feels like dark brown, coffee beans, a fireplace mid winter. It’s like a flame, but the most gentle of flames. The color, the way it moves, its rich nuances and wide variety of schemes and colors and tones and sounds. 

Gladio got immediately attached to the voice as soon as he heard it, and ocassionally listened to the program just to hear it again.

But then he discovered he also loved the mind behind the voice.

A rare jewel of a mind. Smart to mind-blowing levels. Intelligent, wise. Alive like the fire of his voice. This particular broadcaster is by far the most brilliant of the three minds, and by far the most brilliant from all of Gladio’s acquaintances and friends. Maybe the most brilliant in all Lucis. With a knowledge of all things, the ones you do not learn in books included, that it’s simply…impressive.

He always has the best arguments. He always waits in silence during the first half an hour before joining in, and nobody can stop him. You’d think one thing is right, he can convince you otherwise. You’d think a polemic is hard to solve, he proves otherwise. The universe, his thoughts on the cosmos, the oh so poetic way in which he visualizes death, and the oh so beautiful but realistic way in which he visualizes life and the world. 

And Gladio starts listening to the program daily, to hear that voice, but also to hear that mind behind.

A faceless creature, a faceless man with a voice and mind of fire, blazing through his head, changing his visualization of many things of life, turning his thoughts upside-down, marveling him with his vast and endless knowledge and philosophical way of living and thinking, all of that said through that wonderful warm voice that almost seems to be able to sing without really singing.

And then Gladio writes a story.

It’s his passion outside work. He loves to write as he loves to read. And he’s a hopeless romantic. So he, inspired by that voice, inspired by the mind behind it, inspired by this faceless broadcaster , inspired like nothing had inspired him in years, Gladio sits down and writes. And finishes, and reviews and re-reads and corrects until it’s done.

And he sends it to the radio’s station’s headquarters, with a nickname due to shyness, and a small note. 

The next week, he turns on the radio at an unusual hour, past the discussion table, when he’s already home. It’s the story reading program. They announce the title of his work, recall his nickname, and announce the narrator.

It’s him. The broadcaster of beautiful voice and a more stunning mind.

‘I wish for Ignis Scientia to narrate this’, his note he attached to his story when he sent it read, ‘if he agrees. And if he does, please, do not tell him it was a request of mine.’

And oh, Ignis Scientia agreed. And Ignis Scientia, the brilliant mind with a gorgeous voice and a mysterious face, is reading and narrating it. And his voice fits the story perfectly fine. Because Gladio wrote it thinking about him; he wrote it thinking of his voice, thinking of what and which words would fit with his voice in ways that go beyond the phonetic aspect. 

The story flows with his voice like one was born from the other, but none existed before the other. The words come from his mouth like he does at the discussion table; natural, in a way that’s born directly from within him, like this is part of himself. He breathes when it’s required and not a single word before, he stops in the exact spots, he understands which parts require a high comma, which a low one, in ways that they cannot teach at diction and radio schools. 

It’s like Ignis Scientia feels this story.

Gladio had been inspired thinking that whatever job he did with his writing, it would be a brute rock, and that, if Ignis Scientia read it, it would be turned into the most beautiful of diamonds.

And oh, was he right. Was he right. 

It’s his words, his story, but it’s like it’s the first time he hears it. He feels like he gave a rough and dirty dummy to this broadcaster, and he turned it into a porcelain doll. More than that, something much prettier than that. 

So Gladio continues to write.

This shoots his inspiration to heights he did not know possible. He writes in any free time he has, he’s barely focused in life because life feels so empty compared to the feelings inside himself when he’s writing. And writes until he sends another story, but forgot the note requesting for Ignis, who had not been at the story reading program since the first novel. 

But, to his surprise, it’s Ignis Scientia who’s hosting the program. And he’s reading this second story.

 And Gladio’s immediately feeling his heart and face lit up and come to life in a way he only experienced when he first listened to Ignis reading something of his creation. 

So he sits there, hunger forgotten, work forgotten, everything sent to hell except for Ignis’ voice in the radio reading his story in the beautiful way only Ignis can create.

And Gladio continues to write, and continues to send his stories to the radio station. And Ignis continues to read them, never skipping one, never disappointing, always there at 10 p.m. when it’s story telling time.

And Gladio ignores that Ignis is not being paid for this. 

And Gladio ignores Ignis asked permission to read his stories.

When the second story came in, they told him it was fine just leaving it to the usual narrator. But Ignis requested to do it himself. ‘This is not in your contract’ they told him, ‘we cannot pay you for this even if we wanted.’

But Ignis bowed the head.

‘Please. I’ll do it for free.’

[Adding a read more]

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Quirks About Germans Americans Still Can’t Get Over

If you live in a country long enough, which many American exchange students do, you start to become desensitized to what once struck you as odd. You no longer stand in awe of the number of toilet buttons or scoff at people waiting for walking signals when no cars are coming. Some things, however, just never become familiar. We asked former American exchange students to Germany what cultural quirks still give them pause.

Wearing clothes more than once

Originally posted by funky-blue

Generally speaking, Americans grow up somewhat fussy about germs and dirt. We carry around hand sanitizer. We carefully wash all of produce. We also throw into the laundry clothes we’ve worn for only one day. In Germany, unless you worked out in them or spilled something on them, there is no shame or stigma attached to wearing clothes again–even multiple days in a row.

Greeting people with “Mahlzeit!”

Originally posted by justalittletumblweed

Can you imagine walking past someone at work in America and greeting them with, “Lunch!” But in Germany, this is a common way to greet coworkers during the mid-day hours.

How they count on their fingers

If you’ve seen the movie Inglorious Bastards, you are already on the up-and-up on German counting behaviors. Americans show numbers with their palm faced away from them and start with their pointer finger. Germans count with their palm faced towards them and start with their thumb.

Tugging of the eye

Originally posted by neondragonfly

In America, sarcasm is best served subtly. Since sarcasm is a bit of a national pastime and is brought to artistic levels in some circles, it can make it tricky to know when an American is joking. In Germany, sarcasm is presented visually, by pulling at the bottom of an eyelid to indicate that everything you say after that is meant in jest.

Fake names on social media

Originally posted by giantmonster

Met a cool German and want to connect with them on social media? Well, GOOD LUCK. Germans tend to be more concerned about their privacy and often change their names on social media to something completely unrelated to their actual name.

Buying your own birthday cake

Originally posted by floresdeceniza

Nothing knocks the wind out of an American’s sails like being expected to bring their own cake to their birthday party.

English is “german-o-fied”

When Americans travel to Germany, they often expect to be fully immersed in the German language. This is not exactly the case. The German language is speckled with English words like googeln and tweeten and American music is played on the radio or at events. Dipping in and out of one’s mother tongue can make it difficult to learn a new language.

Enthusiasm for carbonated beverages

Originally posted by disneymoviesanywhere

Bubbles! Bubbles everywhere and in everything! Oh, it doesn’t have bubbles? Well let’s mix that juice with some carbonated water.

Shoes just for the house

House shoes, or slippers, are like normal shoes but softer and comfier. They’re like something in between socks and shoes.

Frische Luft

Originally posted by benmullins

You finally escaped the whipping wind and cold outside. It’s snowing and you look out the window and express your gratitude that you aren’t out there anymore. Then, across the room, someone complains about stale air and requests some frische Luft and OPENS THE WINDOW IN WINTER. Now the air is “fresh” but you are freezing. Who is winning here?

What is going on with your beds?

Arguably the most efficient set-up for bed-making: The pillow takes up like half of the bed and there is just one thick sheet that has it’s own case.

“The patio was lit only with candles and moonlight, so aides used the camera lights on their phones to help the stone-faced Trump and Abe read through the documents,” Liptak writes. In DeAgazio’s first photo, you can see a phone flashlight being used in that way.
 
 

Why is this important? Mobile phones have flashlights, yes — and cameras, microphones and Internet connectivity. When Edward Snowden was meeting with reporters in Hong Kong at the moment he was leaking the material he’d stolen from the NSA, he famously asked that they place their phones in the refrigerator — blocking any radio signals in the event that the visitors’ phones had been hacked. This was considered the most secure way of ensuring that the phones couldn’t be used as wiretaps, even more secure than removing the battery. Phones — especially phones with their flashes turned on for improved visibility — are portable television satellite trucks and, if compromised, can be used to get a great deal of information about what’s happening nearby, unless precautions are taken.