Diane Hayes | Professional Voice Actor for Commercial & E-Learning

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Scoundrels! Show yourselves! Boys, that's two counts of trespassing! You rascals are gonna have to pay the ultimate price! Kisses!

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Pfft. What was that? You call that a punch? Wow. I was expecting more of a fight from so- Oh! Okay. Yep. Something like that. That's what I was expecting.

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You are in big trouble, young man. First, how many times have I told you not to play with my spy gear? Second, how many times have I told you not to spy on your sister? And third... Ow! Give me that taser!

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Manslaughter? They never gave that baby a chance. They faked an identity for her. They never told anyone she needed medical attention. It's depraved indifference murder too. Look, they knew she was going to die and they didn't care one way or the other.

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Fish police Goldie speaking. What's your concern? Mm-hmm? What makes you think your husband's dead you got into bed, and there was no response. Oh, sweetheart We're gonna need more than that. Tell you what reach for his wallet if he doesn't move you're a widow

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A woman in a bright white dress poses with one arm propped against a nearby tree. French artist Raphael Colin created this work in 1894. He combined in his work the allegorical subject matter and naturalism that had dominated French art for decades with the lighter colors and spontaneous brushwork that he borrowed from the French Impressionists. This painting once belonged to Hayashi Tadamasa, a prominent Japanese art dealer. Early Japanese collectors were drawn to works like this that reflected the increasingly conservative traditions of the French Academy. But Colin's work may have also been attractive because of his influence on the development of modern Japanese art. Until this time, Japanese artists worked primarily in ink. Colin's mentored the first generation of Japanese oil painters, many of whom went to France to study and to paint.

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The woman Richter depicts seems like the epitome of glamour of that period, in her luminous evening dress. Her identity is unknown, but she is the heir of a celebrity who we might encounter in a newspaper or on film.

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It was about 6 a.m. when Rufus and I saw Joyce Metzinger on the walking path that runs around the perimeter of Glebe Park at the north end of Siesta Key. Rufus is a scruffy-faced schnauzer who firmly believes that he's in total charge of whatever street he happens to be walking on, so he let out a little woof to announce our presence. I'm Dixie Hemingway, no relation to you-know-who. I'm a cat sitter on Siesta Key, a semi-tropical barrier island in the Gulf of Mexico, just off of Sarasota, Florida. Most of my clients are cats, with just a few dogs. Occasionally, there's a hamster or a bird or something with scales, although I prefer to let other pet sitters take the snakes. Don't get me wrong, I admire snakes. In the Garden of Eden, the serpent was the only honest one, but anybody who knows me knows I can't stand dropping live, squirming mice into the snake's open mouth. Joyce said, come look at this, Dixie. I'm almost certain it's a resplendent quetzal. I brought Rufus close to my side and pulled up next to Joyce. There on the ground was a parrot-like bird with bright green wings, a red breast, a banana yellow beak, and a fluffy chartreuse crest that sat atop its head like a fringed helmet. Its green tail feathers were easily three times the length of its body and looked like two long Christmas ribbons gleaming with violent iridescence. I said, huh. Joyce said, this may be the first resplendent quetzal ever seen in Florida. I said, huh? Rufus wagged his tail vigorously, as if to make up for my ignorance. Lord knows the key has practically every bird known to man. There are probably at least 200 species of birds that make their way through the key at some time or other a year, so we might as well have a few resplendent whatchamacallits too. Resplendent quetzals, Joyce said, they're the national bird of Guatemala. Rufus made a snorting noise, and he and Henry the Eighth exchanged a look. I said, Joyce, you do realize that bird is dead.

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I take off running back to my place in only my panties and a T-shirt. Coming around the corner and before I can get to my row, I run right into the strong arms of Marcus Waters out for a stroll with his pit bull, Captain Bly. He gave his dog the name because it's the mascot of his bar, the Yacht Club, which he owns. Marcus starts smiling at me while checking out my attire but never lets up on his grip around my waist. He says, for a moment, I didn't know if you were a ghost or an angel, but you can run into my arms anytime, Tammy Jane. Maybe next time you're out jogging, you may want to put on a longer pair of pants, unless you were looking for me. It's a long story, Marcus, and I ain't got time to tell you right now while my baby's back home. Oh, shit. Marcus, you gotta come with me to my place right now. I forgot my keys were in my robe, and it got left behind when Richard opened the door when he heard Dummy barking. I can tell Marcus is getting a little excited thinking something else is going to happen because now he's pulling me along. When we get to my front door, I tell him the quick version of my story with Jenny Boo. I now need him to help me climb in through my bedroom window. His smile gets bigger knowing he's going to touch my butt pushing me up and in through the opening. Just then, of all moments in time, Molly Beth wakes up screaming from us making a loud ruckus outside. Then all hell breaks loose. Another neighbor heard her screaming and looking out her window saw the two of us trying to get into my bedroom and called 911 on us.

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Knowing it was make-or-break time, she played her final card. Please, Jake, you're the only one I can ask to help me get a little revenge on a big jerk. She leaned in close to his ear and said in a hushed voice, It'll be our little secret. God, he smelled good. So good, she wanted to rub her lips over the faint stubble on his cheek. Instead, she forced herself to shift her weight away from him. He ran one hand through his hair and shook his head as if he already knew he was going to regret helping her. Then finally said, Fine. If you're that desperate, I'll do it. Although, I still don't think this plan of yours has much of a chance of working. Oh, she said softly, the word desperate gritting along with princess and nice. It'll work all right. I'll make absolutely sure of it.

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She stopped on the step and took in a deep breath of the warm September afternoon. Ah, this is just what she needed. She glanced into the yard. There was a spotted animal standing at her bird feeder. She opened her eyes wider than she had all day. Maxine blinked, twice. What a strange jewel of a creature. Oh, a deer. Was it a deer? Since when did deer wear patches of all those colors? Chestnut and chocolate, snowy white, and roan red. It looks quilted, Maxine thought. She stood stock still. She watched the deer give the feeder a good nudge with its black bulbous nose. With its pretty, pretty lips, it swept the last of the sunflower seed out of the lowest feeder hole. If only she'd been able to take her eyes off that magnificent deer, she might have seen the boy in the plaid shirt and khaki pants. He was standing with one cheek pressed against the smooth gray trunk of a beech tree, no more than 30 feet away from Maxine and her back door.

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How can you be hungry? You just had dinner. My socks are not for putting. Ella wrestled to keep her socks on this time, but she was no match for the mini-beast Bumble, who had gotten bored on what she thought was a game of show-and-tell gone wrong, it seemed. Ella rolled over and turned to sit up on the floor as she finally gave in and her legs went to jelly. The ever-victorious Bumble pulled off one of Ella's socks, shaking it in her mouth as proud as Punch before chewing on it a little more. Even though a few minutes earlier Ella had tried to teach her, it was bad and not to do that. It was becoming clear that teaching a puppy new things would be a little trickier than she thought. Maybe she would need some help from Mommy and Daddy. Bedtime, Mommy announced from downstairs. Before Ella could finish thinking of all the things she would like to teach Bumble, it was time for Ella to go brush her teeth, get on her pajamas and settle down in bed. So off she went, of course with Bumble closely following behind. She followed so close that if Ella slowed down or came to a stop, a pile of wrinkles would fall onto and over her feet. Bumble was so nosy she would sniff where she was walking and walk when she should have stopped. It made for a very clumsy Bumble and a very funny bunch of wrinkles following Ella around the house.

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I just don't get it." Slug trudged through the meadow. He shook his head. "'Excuse me. Are you talking to me?" Slug stopped short. "'Huh?' he looked up. "'Oh, oh no!' "'Ah, I'm Hootie the Owl. If you're talking to yourself, you must have a dilemma.' "'I do!' Slug showed Hootie his wings. "'See? I bet you haven't met a frog with wings before. I'm the only one in my family.'" Hootie flew down and walked around Slug. "'Hmm. I see what you mean. Well, even so, what's the problem?' Slug shook his head. "'Are you kidding? Look at me. I have wings. And I can't even fly.' Slug said goodbye to Hootie and hopped to the lily pond. He crouched by the edge and watched a butterfly flutter around. "'Hey there, butterfly. Can you help me?' The butterfly gracefully glided onto a lily pad. "'Hi. I'm Whisper. I'll try.' Slug tilted his head. "'How do fly? I have wings, but can't fly.' Whisper spread her wings wide. "'I never thought about it. I just can. Have you tried?' "'I have. Many times. Watch!' Slug hopped as fast as his legs would take him. He leapt as high as he could and flapped his wings. Plop!' "'Oh, that had to hurt,' said Whisper. "'Sorry. I can't help you.' "'Caw! Caw! Caw!' A crotchety old crow swooped down and almost knocked Slug off the rock he sat on. "'Hey! Watch it!' yelled Slug. The crow zoomed past Slug again. "'Ha! I saw you trying to fly before. Give it up. You can't fly. You're not a frog and you're not a bird. I'm not sure what you are. Caw! Caw! Caw! You can't!' Off flew the crow. Slug sat back on the rock with his hands on his head and a face a mile long.

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Nettie Pruddle the Hag struggled to tuck in the final ruffled corner, then stood back, her eyes closed, awaiting the verdict. Four other beds were lined up in the room and four other Hags, Grunty, Esmergrotzla, Twitley and Gordon stood beside them, looking equally nervous. They were participating in a grueling competition to become the handmaid to the new Harpy Queen. Of course, Nettie had no intention of actually being a handmaid. She was working undercover for the Resistance. Or at least she was trying. "'Nettie, this is terrible work!' Mrs. Smith, the Harpy Queen, roared, making Nettie's many boils wobble. "'Where are the delicate folds I asked for? The creaseless surface! The plump pillow!' Nettie bent double and prodded the pillow with her finger in the hope that it might plump it. Three other important Harpies, Miss Green, Miss Brown and Miss Witherspoon, grinned smugly. Nettie gritted her mammoth teeth, thinking of her friend, Odge. "'It'll be fine,' Odge had said. "'You'll be able to gather important information,' Odge had said. "'Nettie, you can't lose,' Odge had said. Odge had the easy job. She was off having a great time in Vienna, collecting the Mistmaker Master while Nettie was stuck on a mountain making frilly beds for half-human, half-bird-woman with an attitude problem.'"

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If you have a child with any kind of speech delay, I encourage you to consider sign language. Kevin wanted to communicate, but didn't have the physical skills due to low muscle tone or the cognitive ability to form words. Within six months, he was using over 50 signs. He started with simple signs like mom, dad, drink, and eat, and his vocabulary continued to grow from there. When we responded to him with a sign, we also said the word. The speech therapist assured us that he would drop the sign once he was more confident with the word. They were right. Kevin Meets a Horse We lived within walking distance of a horse farm. The only horse Kevin had ever experienced was a soft plastic horse with a button that played music. He knew the signs for both horse and music. When he saw the horses for the first time, he signed music. I kept signing and saying horse, but he persisted with music. Ah-ha! He was waiting for the horse to make music. What a smart little boy! Another Celebration More about Celebrations in Chapter 7

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As far as I know, I never made a conscious decision to be an athlete. Athletics was hardwired in my DNA. On a warm September morning in 1983, I was picked last for kickball during the third grade recess scrimmage. Something snapped. Wiping my sweaty palms on my Wrangler jeans and Pac-Man t-shirt, I went Incredible Hulk on that red rubber ball and got my first taste of adrenaline off a Grand Slam kick. The dream took flight immediately. I was going to play kickball in the Olympics and no one was going to stop me. Except the International Olympic Committee, which still refuses to acknowledge kickball's Olympic potential. When my kickball dreams were put on hold, I fell in love with figure skating. I fell in love with the physical effort. I fell in love with the coldness. I fell a lot, in general. Despite my dedication to skating, I soon realized there was not enough talent in my limbs to get me to the Olympics as a figure skater. Wanting to stay involved with the world of skating, I was left with two choices, coach the next generation or join a professional ice show. After graduating from college, I chose the latter. I signed contracts with the Ice Capades, which quickly went bankrupt, Holiday on Ice, which made me wear an elephant costume, and Hollywood on Ice, which toured South America and paid us in IOUs, handwritten on post-its. What a damn fool mistake that was. Now that I'm older, of course, I can subscribe to the If I Hadn't Done That, Then I Wouldn't Have Gotten Here view on life's journey. One of the great perks of being a writer is that it turns out there are no mistakes in life, just a lot of long paragraphs greatly in need of editing.

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My nature is to leave every cabinet and drawer open like a burglar. My superpower is balancing the most stuff on the bathroom sink. If I had my druthers, I'd let cat puke dry on the carpet so it's easier to scrape up. If druthers were things, and I had a coupon for druthers, I'd stockpile them like jello because you never know when you might need some druthers. My husband fell in love with a creative woman. Creative is southern lady code for slob. But it's one thing to accept a slob for who she is. It's another to live with her. A year into our marriage, my husband complained. He said, would you mind keeping the dining room table clean? It's the first thing I see when I come home. What I heard was, I want a divorce. What I said was, do you want a divorce? No, he said. I just want a clean table. I called my mother. Mama asked, what's on the table? Oh, everything. Whatever comes off my body when I come home. Shopping bags, food, coffee cups, mail, my coat. Your coat? So I don't hang my coat in the closet. That makes me a terrible person. He knew who he was marrying. Why do I have to change? Mama said, Helen Michelle, for heaven's sake, this is a problem that can be easily solved. Do you know what other married women deal with? Drunks, cheetahs, poverty, men married to their Atari. Mama, there's no such thing as Atari anymore. Helen Michelle, some women would be beaten with a bag of oranges for sass talk like that. You married a saint. Clean the goddamn table. And so, to save my marriage, I taught myself to clean.

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This magical series started over 50 years ago and is still popular on demand and on DVD. Bewitched is part reality and part fantasy. The show and characters have become an enduring part of American pop culture. Bewitched continues to enchant fans even today. Did you know that the Bewitched song had theme song lyrics? Well, as Samantha Stevens would say, you're in luck. Words and music by Howard Greenfield and Jack Keller. Bewitched, bewitched, you've got me in your spell. Bewitched, bewitched, you know your craft so well. Note, lyrics were never used for the Bewitched opening or closing credits. How well do you know the Stevens? Samantha does magic by A, tugging her ear, B, blinking her eyes, C, wiggling her nose, or D, crossing her arms. If you guessed wiggling her nose, you are correct.

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The stronger of the two cold-cocked me right across the jaw. I had no strength to withstand it and saw some of my teeth spraying out of my mouth. It took a special kind of individual to be able to hit a woman with such force. Not the kind you want to be left in a room with. They had no morals, conscience, or fiber of being human. They were robotic. They just performed. Just like Demi Moore in G.I. Jane, I responded with, Suck. My. Dick. The second of two looked at me and said, He'll continue until you tell him. He won't let you die until you do. But I'll be more merciful and will let it be quick. I guessed he was a good cop. I definitely thought I could take him, even in my current condition. I can't tell you what I don't know. So this is going to be quick. Another punch to my face and this time also to my ribs. I knew he broke a few. Sweating profusely and trying to catch my breath, I felt more blood trickling down my face. I looked a good cop and laughed. What's so funny, Miss? First of all, I think the phrase is what's so funny, Missy? Second, at this rate, keep it up. I'm going to bleed out. You stupid, ignorant shit.

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How can you be hungry? You just had dinner. My socks are not for pudding. Ella wrestled to keep her socks on this time, but she was no match for the mini-beast Bumble, who had gotten bored on what she thought was a game of show-and-tell gone wrong, it seemed. Ella rolled over and turned to sit up on the floor as she finally gave in and her legs went to jelly. The ever-victorious Bumble pulled off one of Ella's socks, shaking it in her mouth as proud as Punch before chewing on it a little more. Even though a few minutes earlier Ella had tried to teach her, it was bad and not to do that. It was becoming clear that teaching a puppy new things would be a little trickier than she thought. Maybe she would need some help from Mommy and Daddy. Bedtime, Mommy announced from downstairs. Before Ella could finish thinking of all the things she would like to teach Bumble, it was time for Ella to go brush her teeth, get on her pajamas and settle down in bed. So off she went, of course with Bumble closely following behind. She followed so close that if Ella slowed down or came to a stop, a pile of wrinkles would fall onto and over her feet. Bumble was so nosy she would sniff where she was walking and walk when she should have stopped. It made for a very clumsy Bumble and a very funny bunch of wrinkles following Ella around the house.

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I just don't get it." Slug trudged through the meadow. He shook his head. "'Excuse me. Are you talking to me?" Slug stopped short. "'Huh?' he looked up. "'Oh, oh no!' "'Ah, I'm Hootie the Owl. If you're talking to yourself, you must have a dilemma.' "'I do!' Slug showed Hootie his wings. "'See? I bet you haven't met a frog with wings before. I'm the only one in my family.'" Hootie flew down and walked around Slug. "'Hmm. I see what you mean. Well, even so, what's the problem?' Slug shook his head. "'Are you kidding? Look at me. I have wings. And I can't even fly.' Slug said goodbye to Hootie and hopped to the lily pond. He crouched by the edge and watched a butterfly flutter around. "'Hey there, butterfly. Can you help me?' The butterfly gracefully glided onto a lily pad. "'Hi. I'm Whisper. I'll try.' Slug tilted his head. "'How do fly? I have wings, but can't fly.' Whisper spread her wings wide. "'I never thought about it. I just can. Have you tried?' "'I have. Many times. Watch!' Slug hopped as fast as his legs would take him. He leapt as high as he could and flapped his wings. Plop!' "'Oh, that had to hurt,' said Whisper. "'Sorry. I can't help you.' "'Caw! Caw! Caw!' A crotchety old crow swooped down and almost knocked Slug off the rock he sat on. "'Hey! Watch it!' yelled Slug. The crow zoomed past Slug again. "'Ha! I saw you trying to fly before. Give it up. You can't fly. You're not a frog and you're not a bird. I'm not sure what you are. Caw! Caw! Caw! You can't!' Off flew the crow. Slug sat back on the rock with his hands on his head and a face a mile long.

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She stopped on the step and took in a deep breath of the warm September afternoon. Ah, this is just what she needed. She glanced into the yard. There was a spotted animal standing at her bird feeder. She opened her eyes wider than she had all day. Maxine blinked twice. What a strange jewel of a creature. Oh, a deer. Was it a deer? Since when did deer wear patches of all those colors? Chestnut and chocolate, snowy white, and roan red. It looks quilted, Maxine thought. She stood stock still. She watched the deer give the feeder a good nudge with its black bulbous nose. With its pretty, pretty lips, it swept the last of the sunflower seed out of the lowest feeder hole. If only she'd been able to take her eyes off that magnificent deer, she might have seen the boy in the plaid shirt and khaki pants. He was standing with one cheek pressed against the smooth gray trunk of a beech tree, no more than 30 feet away from Maxine and her back door.

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Nettie Pruddle the hag struggled to tuck in the final ruffled corner, then stood back, her eyes closed, awaiting the verdict. Four other beds were lined up in the room and four other hags, Grunty, Esmergrotzla, Twitley and Gordon stood beside them, looking equally nervous. They were participating in a grueling competition to become the handmaid to the new Harpy Queen. Of course, Nettie had no intention of actually being a handmaid, she was working undercover for the resistance, or at least she was trying. Nettie, this is terrible work, Mrs. Smith the Harpy Queen roared, making Nettie's many boils wobble. Where are the delicate folds I asked for, the creaseless surface, the plump pillow? Nettie bent double and prodded the pillow with her finger in the hope that it might plump it. Three other important Harpies, Miss Green, Miss Brown and Miss Witherspoon, grinned smugly. Nettie gritted her mammoth teeth, thinking of her friend, Odge. It'll be fine, Odge had said, you'll be able to gather important information, Odge had said. Nettie, you can't lose, Odge had said. Odge had the easy job, she was off having a great time in Vienna, collecting the mist maker master while Nettie was stuck on a mountain making frilly beds for half human, half bird woman with an attitude problem.

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As far as I know, I never made a conscious decision to be an athlete. Athletics was hardwired in my DNA. On a warm September morning in 1983, I was picked last for kickball during the third grade recess scrimmage. Something snapped. Wiping my sweaty palms on my Wrangler jeans and Pac-Man t-shirt, I went Incredible Hulk on that red rubber ball and got my first taste of adrenaline off a Grand Slam kick. The dream took flight immediately. I was going to play kickball in the Olympics and no one was going to stop me. Except the International Olympic Committee, which still refuses to acknowledge kickball's Olympic potential. When my kickball dreams were put on hold, I fell in love with figure skating. I fell in love with the physical effort. I fell in love with the coldness. I fell a lot, in general. Despite my dedication to skating, I soon realized there was not enough talent in my limbs to get me to the Olympics as a figure skater. Wanting to stay involved with the world of skating, I was left with two choices, coach the next generation or join a professional ice show. After graduating from college, I chose the latter. I signed contracts with the Ice Capades, which quickly went bankrupt, Holiday on Ice, which made me wear an elephant costume, and Hollywood on Ice, which toured South America and paid us in IOUs, handwritten on post-its. What a damn fool mistake that was. Now that I'm older, of course, I can subscribe to the If I Hadn't Done That, Then I Wouldn't Have Gotten Here view on life's journey. One of the great perks of being a writer is that it turns out there are no mistakes in life, just a lot of long paragraphs greatly in need of editing.

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It's been a long day. You've walked through 18 open houses, and you're pretty sure at least 10 of them were owned by blind gorillas. Your feet hurt and your head is buzzing with words like Wayne's Coating and Butler's Pantry. Oof, the idea of living in a van is starting to sound strangely appealing.

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How does Jell-O sugar-free pudding fit all that rich chocolatey taste in 60 tiny calories?

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Health care in Alaska is different from other places. Ambulances sometimes have wings instead of sirens. People have been known to travel 30 miles on a snow machine to fill their prescriptions.

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Naomi Pinot Noir. Great taste lives here.

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Three ways to make today famous. One, talk your way into a White House event you're not invited to. Two, tell the media your six-year-old child has floated away in a weather balloon. Or three, shop Famous Footwear's clearance sale.

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Join us for the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, two days and 39 miles of unstoppable hope. Are you in it to end it?

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Here we go again. It's night out with the girls and since Judy got to dodge a Durango, she's the center of attention. All these stories, adventures, like how her family just went skydiving and then capped that off with windsurfing with the dolphins. How am I going to top that? Oh, let's see. I got my nails done today? Or I was going to talk about my daughter's cheerleading routine?

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Yeah, I'm looking for the perfect blue to paint my bathroom and I see all the gallons are 20% off which is great because I want a color I will love love love for a long time and a price I'll love too because you know I hate to compromise. Oh hello Beach House 1052.

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The coastal mountain ranges of Mendocino County, California have recently been accorded their own wine-growing designation, called Mendocino Ridge.

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The story of Hallmark is the story of creativity and innovation, ingenuity and possibilities. January 1910, 18-year-old Joyce Clyde Hall, or J.C. as he preferred to be known, stepped off the train in Kansas City with a shoebox full of postcards under each arm and the American dream in his heart.

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For several decades, CHOC has served infants requiring the highest level of care. With the units opening, CHOC's neonatal services now include 72 beds at CHOC Orange and the CHOC Children's NICU at St. Joseph Hospital.

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Visa MPS is like a special passport that helps you get funds and cardholder information to local prepaid markets all around the world. To let's say, a local issuer in Singapore for example. Because her bank joined MPS, she can now receive the funds and data from the originating bank and seamlessly issue the prepaid cards to local recipients.

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The goal of the PLUS Program is to make the transition as seamless as possible, turning a moment of crisis into a satisfying experience.

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America's future is dependent upon the next generation of entrepreneurs, young people with new ideas. The purpose of the Teen Entrepreneur and Kid Entrepreneur Academies is to educate, train, and empower this next generation of entrepreneurs.

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CHIRP research set out to explore the changing landscape of employment, especially around the expanding prevalence of the gig economy. Overall, we found people are typically motivated to start a side hustle to earn additional income.

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Team challenges are a great way to introduce physical activity, increasing strength, stamina, flexibility, and cardiovascular function.

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For many of our customers, life can sometimes get pretty hectic and demanding. Our customers have responsibilities, timelines to meet, and all kinds of activities that fill their day. That's why Nissan's Express Service was developed.

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Okay, let's see what you've learned. For this practice exercise, you're on your own, but if you have trouble, we'll help you out. Answer all questions to complete the exercise. Good luck!

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Once Ransomware has been deployed, it encrypts files and folders on local drives, any attached drives, backup drives, and potentially other computers on the same network.

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Right of publicity, or ROP, is a form of intellectual property that protects the name, likeness, image or voice of persons during their lifetime.

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One of the most important aspects of the repair process is to immediately get your policyholder into a rental replacement vehicle. Auto Club facilitates this process up front during our first conversation with your policyholder.

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Now is our chance to stand up for reproductive freedom. If we hold the House and Senate, Democrats can pass a federal law enshrining freedom of choice across all 50 states. President Biden is expected to announce he plans to make codifying abortion rights his top legislative priority. Visit Democrats.org and find out how you can help get out the vote.

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It's bad enough in our state without our bigoted governor leading the charge, but Ron DeSantis wants to punish LGBTQ plus school kids and humiliate them in their classrooms. Today, Florida Governor Ron DeSantis signed the Parental Rights and Education Bill and critics say it opens the door for discrimination against the LGBTQ plus community. Let's make sure he gets what's coming to him this November when we kick his bigoted butt out of the governor's mansion.

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They're racist. The Governor and Attorney General are working together to erase American history from Texas schools. The Texas Senate has passed legislation that would end teaching requirements on some lessons about the civil rights movement and the women's suffrage movement. Call your state representative and let them know that you don't support whitewashing history.

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She must have been too busy gazing across her yard at Russia to get the message the first time. There are next-door neighbors, and you can actually see Russia from land here in Alaska. But, like Lenin in a mausoleum, she just won't go away. Now, Palin wants to represent our state in Congress. On Election Day, let's send Sarah Palin a message she'll hear loud and clear. Say dasvidaniya to this wacky Wasillian.

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After years as a favorite instructor at PS118 in Queens, Jill Thomas became a principal with a mission to raise test scores and increase high school graduation rates. And this November, Jill is looking for your vote. Paid for by Friends of Jill Thomas Pack.

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It seems that war is inevitable now. You best head to the Totem Spirit in the Valley of Ruins and pray for a quick end to the war. Okay, here. Take this Spirit Amulet.

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Well, let's see. I met Harrison at a church revival. There was a traveling preacher back then, a big fella, named Reverend Jim. I even remember his slogan, Come to me to find your way. Your granddad was sitting right behind me and my girlfriend Alma, and at one point old Reverend Jim was flinging his hair around with his fire and brimstone annex, and a piece of it, one of those small add-on do's for men, went flying off. I swear, Harrison and I were the only ones that noticed. We both started laughing to beat the band. Everyone looked at us like we were a couple of loonies.