Will Might Be Going Deaf In His Old Age

There have been a few clips on the show lately that have sounded “echoy”, but nobody in the greenroom can hear it. Radio & sound legend, Wilson Pendarvis, doesn’t hear it. To be honest, these clips do not convey the echo that was heard a week or two ago, where it was much more pronounced. But why should that fact keep us away from making fun of Wilson? Oh. Right. It didn’t.


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Show Re-Cap for Tuesday 3/11/14

HAPPY THREE ELEVEN DAY YUU GGGUUUUUIIISSSSSSSEEEE!!!!! I’M GONNA CELEBRATE BY MASTURBATING TO JAPANESE CARTOONS FROM THE EARLY NINETIES!!! HOW ARE YOU GONNA PROFESS YOUR LOVE FOR THIS TERRIBLE SUBLIME-RIP-OFF BAND?!?!?!?!?!??!?!!! Well, no matter what you’re doing, you can start by listening to a man who absolutely despises 311, and that’s JASON FUCKIN’ ELLIS!!! Today’s show started with Jason coming to grips with the fact that at a certain age, you just can’t bounce back from fighting off predators the way you can when you’re younger. Katie is starting to get way into training MMA, and is quickly becoming Jason’s greatest predator, which is not the worst thing ever, but does led to some aches and pains in the morning. What Jason has noticed most though, is that she’s keeping her pace a lot better when they’re training together than he is. Long and short of it, if it was a match between one of them and a vending machine that won’t give up the Fritos, my money’s on the girl. Tully has been noticing the same thing when it comes to drinking. Aside from the whole “having a kid and wife” thing, he just knows he can’t get ripped the fuck up like he used to. Same goes for everyone else who’s still letting the pharmaceutical industry keep feeding them bullshit by the barrel in a wrapping that declares it will make you a normal person. It all boils down to the fact that the older you get, the more work you have to do to earn your fun. If you wanna beat the brakes off your liver and kidneys and fight a hooker for being too aggressive with the blowjob and chase the cops into a ditch for a savage gangland style ketamine party, you should probably make sure your room’s clean and all the dishes are done first. Juder McDuder came by to hang out for a bit. He took an AIDS test the other day and came back clean as a whistle, which is always good to hear. He went to the gay clinic though, so there was some Q-tipping in the ass as a part of the complete workup. After Tully heard that, he got the idea that maybe Q-tips are the next step after baby wipes, cause not everyone can fist themselves with a handful of wipes wrapped around their hand. Tully had to fire his kid’s pediatrician just about the same time Ellis had to fire his dentist, and both for the same reasons, they were just shitty medical practitioners. Tully almost kicked a hairdresser in the cunt cause he went in for a trim and these LA bitches be assuming that everybody is trying to get made over into Brad Pitt or something, and then to top it off he found a dentist and before they would even inspect his teeth they start trying to sell him a whitening package. Ellis has heard enough of all this shit, and decided that he’s just gonna start getting every reference for any service he possibly can from Joel Madden, cause he seems to get shit handled pretty well. Jude had to fire his house cleaner a while ago cause she kept accidentally cleaning up his drugs and leaving windows open and shit. But it’s really kind of his own fault for being so comfortably numb. Jude and Ellis talked for a while about the ins and outs of working at Sirius and how there’s definitely some dumb shit that goes on in the corporate structure, but it is still a good company. And since normal radio is essentially a god damn waste unless you’re waiting for a notification of which fallout shelter to go to in the event of a nuclear attack, then it would make good sense for SXM to get their shit together and drop the Jamie Foxx channel. Ellis found out that Andrea’s new boyfriend is a Persian Jew, and the guys had to explain to him why that’s not a bad thing or a weird thing, but actually pretty normal. Basically, kill your local fundamentalist who’s working on taking over a country, no matter what their religion is. They’re just gonna do it wrong and make a big fiasco out of it. If they’re standing on their front porch on a Wednesday morning telling you what their god is pissed at you for doing that you have no problem with and none of your friends care about either, you should go over and bust his head with a huge fucking rock. I’m not anti-religion, I’m just anti-loudmouthed-biased-shithead-with-nothing-better-to-do. Andrea also somehow got it in her head that Ellis didn’t like Jewish people and he had to let her know that the only reason he could have to hate her boyfriend sight unseen is if he was a rollerblader. But that’s not important cause RUDE JUDE’S BOOK HYENA JUST GOT PICKED UP BY A REAL PUBLISHER AND THEY’RE GONNA CRANK OUT A MASSIVE FUCKLOAD OF THEM!!! You’re welcome, Jude, glad to do my part. Was a lot of fun to read and I’m glad it’s turning out well for you. The guys talked for a while about living under a dictatorship in post revolutionary Argentina (cause sometimes that’s just where stuff goes) which brings me back to my point about smashing fundamentalist skulls. Remember when Iranian women wore loose, flowing dresses and were allowed to go to college? I bet you don’t. Y’know why? Mmhhmm, not enough skull wrecking where and when it needed to be done. You should also punch white people who think it’s alright for them to use the N-word in casual conversation with their non black friends. They got it coming too. This brought Jason to asking “If we can’t all get along, how about we all have more orgies?” and that really does seem like the solution. Call me crazy, but letting your neighbor bang your wife while you bang your friend’s cousin just seems like the way to start breaking down all those walls. Walls that will soon be splattered with jism. Somehow, this made the conversation turn to when it’s OK to commit murder, and how no matter what the conditions of it are, it’s the type of thing an insane person does, not just somebody who’s a criminal, but then again we still have to treat it as a crime and not just give somebody a pass for having shitty parents. I sorta missed most of this and couldn’t really follow it from the middle on out, but there were phone calls and intelligent debate on the subject and a very silent “fuck whitey” seemed to be floating through the whole conversation. Especially Germans, they seem to be the most interested in murder out of all the honky European countries. Somehow the topic switched to old western movies and Jason went on a tangent about how cowboys are a pack of morons that need to learn some impulse control and the Natives were some sweet mellow ass mother fuckers. Let’s just let that marinate for a while and contemplate why Canada is better and you should all feel very ashamed of your heritage. Unless you’re black, y’all had a rough go of it, there’s no grudge to be had there. But still, go to Canada, they’ll treat you better. Malcolm X would cosign y’all eating poutine and drinking Molsen.

 

Don’t miss the date, Jason is gonna be doing another book signing at the San Diego Harley Davidson dealer and he might go stunting on a soft tail in the parking lot, or just take a picture with you in a chokehold. Tully found a news story about a family that was terrorized by their own cat. And not like they had a domesticated panther, just a regular cat. It really goes to show you, dogs truly are better and cats are definitely planning to kill you at their earliest convenience. You’re still kind of a wanker if you can’t defend yourself against a house cat though. Even an 18 pound house cat is still a bitch and you could easily take it one on one. The guys took a tour of some new buttons they had and there were quite a few pretty good ones from Cumtard, Pendarvis, Dr. Drew, and some lady who may or may not have been that porn star that Cumtard had sex with, and many more. In testing all these new buttons, the guys noticed there’s some editing problems because there’s some sort of echo on everything that everybody except WILSON could hear. So, it looks like the new studio is quickly turning into the same ramshackled shithole that Swinghouse was, and as a long time fan, it just wouldn’t be the same without technical difficulties. It adds that certain charm, like when you’ve owned the same car for a long time and have that perfect ass divot worn into the seat and the gearshift has deteriorated into the exact shape of the inside of your closed fist. A guy called in to talk about how he got his throat raped by mother nature when he got trapped in an avalanche and that shit was hilarious cause they just couldn’t stop making blow job references to this guy’s impending doom. Another guy called in to let he guys know that he just broke up with his girlfriend and he’s on the prowl for some snow ‘tang, just as long as the bitch doesn’t come with a metric fuck tonne of emotional baggage looking for some long term support. Homeboy needed to have a bitch and moan session for a bit, but the guys talked him off the ledge and let him know that he ain’t wrong and shit is gonna get better, just don’t turn no rebound pussy into a 3 hour tour. Tully found a story from a sports writer at the New Yorker about how it feels to be 96 years old and this brought the conversation around to the question of just how fucked up can your balls get when you’re incredibly fucking old. This one time, at tard school, Kevin farted in an empty orange juice bottle and got one of his friends to sniff it and he stank was so rank that the guy vomited. Apparently, this is not Cumtard’s first foray into farting on/for people, he once laid his asshole directly on his buddy’s face and cracked one off. A nurse called in to talk about how old man balls really are just as terrifying as you might think, and probably worse for the guy they’re hanging off of. And everyone thinks boxers are better and I’m a weirdo cause I like to keep my nuts supported, well the joke’s on you fuckers cause you’re all gonna trip over your testicles and break a hip on your way out to grab the paper and I’m gonna have wonderful balls that all the nursing home staff are gonna be pleased to clean shit and piss off of when I’m ancient and invalid to the point of requiring a syringe full of paste to be shot into my mouth so I don’t starve to death. Then again, having a little sag would be cool, cause if you’re fucking someone doggy style it’ll create an off-rhythm slapping effect against the clit and that’s a game changer. And if the chick you’re banging is just as old and weathered, and her tits are hanging low enough, you could cake it to the next level of nipple play when your testes start slapping the titties around like a proper 1970’s pimp to his most disrespectful hoes. Another nurse called in to talk about one patient he had who would go into kidney failure and his body would release all this fluid anywhere it could and enough of it would collect in his ball sack that the fuckers would grow to the size of a cantaloupe and need to be drained, but still doing permanent damage and giving the guy a permanent set of wind chimes at the knees. Kevin Googled fucked up testicles and found some pics of a testicle tuck, and it’s basically another pointless plastic surgery that only the rich and stupid with poor self esteem could possibly be interested in. If you really wanna fix them up, get electrolysis but just on the top part, then pump them full of botox until they’re smooth as eggs, and tattoo a couple gangster faces on them so you got thug balls. Then, you’re pretty much guaranteed that any girl who would even look at them, will certainly suck them. A caller let the guys know that if you let yourself get really fat and then lose the weight, your balls are gonna probably knock against your ankles by the time you’re 80. Some people on the twitter made mention of a technique known as “ball ironing” to give the balls a smoother, younger appearance, which is usually done at the same time your pissing thousands of dollars away on a “scrotal lift.” Hey, if you can sell it and that profit goes to something that makes the world a better place, then go for it. Another retirement home worker called in to report that the elderly and incapacitated are having crazy amounts of sex and it’s pretty much impossible to avoid seeing a pair of horrifically dangling balls slapping against a droopy pancake ass. And STD’s run rampant there, so it ain’t just gonna be bedsores, but herpes lesions as well. Hope you’re already hard at work digesting your dinner folks, cause if not, it’s gonna come back up real quick. Moving on from the balls, Tully found some medical stories about people having extreme plastic surgery. One guy had a shitload of oil pumped into his arms and instead of looking shredded, he just looks like Popeye with bodybuilder tits. How’s that steak taste the second time around? It’s cool, I’ll give you a couple minutes to go grab a bucket.

 

A guy in New Zealand got a letter from the government that said he needed to renew his passport, but noticed that they made a typo on his name. Specifically, that his name was “Full Metal Havoc More Sexy And Intelligent Than Spock And All The Superheroes Combined With Frost Nova” and of course, that actually is his legal name due to the fact that he lost a bet and had to change his name. Someone sent Tully an infomercial about something called the “Rainbow Sponge” and the lady pitching it is not really selling the sponges as much as trying to get her art career off the ground and maybe have an orgasm in the process cause painting on camera really gets the girl juice flowing for this particular wench. And in perfect time, Jason played the Lou-Tallica “I Am The Table” riff and it could not have fit more perfectly. I’m glad that’s still on the button bar, it needs to be used every once in a while so we all remember how well it fits as a soundtrack to really bizarre shit that makes no sense. The guys talked for a while about Gina Carano possibly coming back to the ring to finish out her contract and how her acting career sure as hell isn’t doing any better so why the fuck not? There was a bit more MA talk since the welter-weight belt is up for grabs this weekend, but fuck all that cause Brian Posehn is in the studio today! Right off the bat, the guys hashed out how to evolve the AIDS and Rape burp phenomenon and basically, if you don’t want to seem like a dick in front of new people, add “research” after AIDS and “Whistle” after rape, and all of a sudden you’re a fucking philanthropist and hot bitches will fuck you. Brian has been keeping up with his comedy work after the backlash of talking a little good natured shit about Insane Clown Posse and being ostracized by the Juggalos. Ellis tried to get Brian more acquainted with Cumtard because they’re both massive potheads who like metal and comic books. They also have severe self-deprecation issues but have learned how to make it work for themselves. the guys talked family and dogs and what a piece of shit car Tom Green is driving that he’s way too proud of and it’s nowhere near as good as Brian’s hybrid SUV. After all that Brian and Jason got into a discussion about metal and how the trend is coming back around to actually sing clearly and that’s a really good thing cause the cookie monster shit is way overdone and wasn’t particularly good to start with. After all this talk of metal, Jason decided to introduce Brian to the wonder that is HateBean, and he was entirely confused but seemed to be willing to buy the album if it ever actually comes out. The guys had a game of shock Pictionary for Brian to play with Cumtard in his corner. The pictures and guesses and such were hard to guess for all of us listening at home, but after Mark McGrath’s scathing accusation that everything’s rigged in Tully’s favor, it was refreshing to hear him get electrocuted and try to draw things. Take that McGrath, right in your sugar coated butthole. Cumtard knows how to scream too, and win or lose it’s always nice to bring new people into the fold of electrocuting the fuck out of people for everyone else’s amusement. After the game Jason and Brian traded speeding ticket stories, due to the fact that Brian got a ticket on the way to the studio today. After a cop called in to give Jason some get out of  ticket free cards, he got the idea to actually use them by renting a Lamborghini next time he’s in New York and boiling the tires clean off it in Times Square with both doors open and Chicago blasting on the stereo, just to use the card when the police come to pound his spleen out. The guys took some phone calls and considering how much weed Brian Posehn smokes, his fans certainly do not surprise me in the quality of content. The guys talked some more about metal after Brian noticed that there may have been a Hatebreed riff in one of the bumpers. Then they talked about the rise and fall of the band Lost Prophets and how every band that sucks needs to meet a similar end. The guys dissected how it is that four people can agree to become the shittiest band in history and just how the fuck do people come up with their on stage diatribes between songs without sounding like they’re regurgitating someone else? Some more callers displayed how high they were this afternoon and give Brian praise for his work on the Sarah Silverman show. Kevin had to come in and retell the farting in the orange juice bottle after a caller rehashed the story of a bit that Brian did on the Sarah Silverman show where he and his man-wife find a jar that they farted in when they were kids and the fart is still in it, so then they go on a quest to fart on anything and everything they can. Final calls were mostly just accolades mixed with Brian and Jason talking about vinyl hunting and metal and how utterly fucked it was when the lead singer of Lamb Of God had to go to jail in Prague because some fan died in the pit at a festival. Before finishing out the show, Brian was getting a little too modest about his ability to knock out Glenn Danzig, so the guys decided to fish the punch pad out from behind the couch and Brian scored a respectable 34, just above the lovely Tara Patrick, who we all know can’t fight after her and SSSAAAAAMMMMMM’s stellar performance at EM9. Ellis thought it would be a great TV bit to send Brian out to random people’s houses to start digging in their backyard like they’re gonna get buried there, just to see people’s reactions. All in all, a very successful day.

 

Red Dragons, Mother Fuckers ,,rr,

Show Re-Cap for Monday 3/10/2014

my-show-is-on

It’s time for my shows!

Hello? Is this thing on? Check. Check. Check one, two. Okay kiddies, let’s get this party started. If Ellis were Jewish, he’d be super shiny gold – mystical super shiny gold. He’s back on antibiotics after being bitten by a snake, I assume from the game of sting pong. He’s kicking the shit out of his fat anyway, Dingo is fat and I don’t believe he’s doing jack shit about it, which like Bobby Brown once said, that’s his prerogative. What’s up with the LA Lakers and their bullshit? What’s up with that chick referee? What’s up with fights being online and not TV? What’s up with that book signing Ellis held in Rancho Cucamonga? Sounds like it turned out to be pretty good even though no t-shirts were there until Cumtard drove them out there. Tully wasn’t there, he says he really wanted to be, but let’s be honest, he probably didn’t. Ellis, Tully & Will got presents from Nipplopolis even though Tully & Will weren’t there. Anyways, lines were so big at the book signing that babies couldn’t hear big dudes and Italians are the greatest machinery on the planet. Just use your EllisMate translation decoder device, you’ll understand what all that means.

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What Cumtard must feel like when he comes in with a story.

Devin has been talking about Heelys again so daddy laid it out for her, she’s not allowed to wear them or rollerblades because he name is a stake here. Ellis got caught up in dolls and marathon traffic, so he called Christian because he’s got a bunch of dolls calendar where he marks down events that create higher than average traffic congestion. Apparently Russians in Hollywood are fucking assholes and that means tourism to Russia is lacking because they’re assholes, and maybe too because that place is a miserable shithole. Tully almost rented a room from a good looking, younger Russian chick once, but… Ellis’ neighbor across the street is a hooker and he runs over the parking cones in his driveway. Anyway, Tully, room, Russian chick. He told her about the place where he buys his bread and how shitty the Russian ladies there treat him and wish death upon him. The hot, younger Russian chick told him it’s because they grew up commies and hated it, hated their bosses, basically hated life and that’s just how them bitches roll. Then she was all like “hasta lasagna, don’t get any on ya!” Okay, she didn’t really say that, I just wish she did. We got into some pothole talk, doing stuff with potholes, and how to fix potholes. I don’t believe any motherfucker that says they know how to fix potholes. I think those people just want to spread that sticky shit on the road so we can all hear little rocks of asphalt being permanently tarred to our vehicles. Cumtard thought he was going to punch hot asphalt, thinking some super strong man punched the earth. You can pretty much guess how well that worked out. More pothole talk and then break time.

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When you see Ellis this Saturday, try to act normal.

Ellis is going to be at some Harley Davidson thing on Saturday with a pal, Randy, who shot Ellis in the head with an arrow. It’s okay, he was wearing a helmet. You can come down, he’ll sign your book while he gets an old saggy black woman’s titty tattooed on his chest. Jim Florentine gave Ellis’ book a shoutout on That Metal Show. Moto News time, Barcia and Malcolm Stewart had a little mishap during the races. A quick call from kick-asphalt about filling potholes, and then back to the moto. It was kind of a dick move, but it wasn’t nearly as big of a dick move as Alessi pulled on Tickle. Next up, a bit called Who’s Cooler Than Shaun White? Dingo? Nope. Tully? No. Ellis? Nah, mate. Jetta? He’s not even listening. Cumtard? Be serious. Bill Clinton? Ding. Tony Hawk? Yup. Prince? Totally. Papa Roach? Hahahaa! Brad Pitt? Of course. Jared Leto? For now. A guy that lays pipe under the sea? We can’t even begin to discuss that one. The Kardashians? Only Kim. Michael Phelps? Nah. Ringo Starr? We’ll get back to you on that one. Sean Connery? No way. Mike Tyson? Unfortunately, yes. Kid Rock? Yes, especially in Detroit. Shaq? Hell yes. Samuel L. Jackson? They say no, but I say that’s some motherfucking bullshit. And with that, I’m done writing down all these motherfucking names on this motherfucking recap. After almost 2 hours, we go to break.

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After being in a frozen hell for months, anything above freezing feels fucking great!

Back from break and we got bitches marrying dogs, saying she “couldn’t think of anything more she’d need from a life partner.” Bitch, is you for real? How about one that doesn’t die in 10-15 years and doesn’t eat their own, or other dogs’ shit? Just a thought. Then we got into some history with well known historians Dingo and Ellis. I didn’t have a chance to jot down notes since I was driving during this segment, but here’s some that I remember. Alexander Graham Bell, most notable for his fat pig of a niece, Amy Bell. He also owned and operated the factory where Bell helmets were forged, and came up with the first analog ringtone, aka an actual bell.  Julius Ceaser, who made the comb-over haircut famous was killed during an orgy with his mother and up to 60 men, including his best friend, Brutus The Barber Beefcake. He also may or may not have invented the sun. Albert Einstein, who made his own mark in the world of hair with his patented “crazy hair.” He also was the first to add and subtract letters instead of numbers, giving math a whole new level of confusing. I know there was a few more, but I can’t remember them. I mean, it’s not like you’re going to remember all these facts anyway, let’s just allow what knowledge has been bestowed on us, to marinate and really sink in to our brains. Dingo went to a rave this weekend with kids that have computers that do things and stuff. Eat your heart out TMZ, you’ll never touch this kind of reporting being done here. This led us into final calls where Jerry was sleeping with a friends husband or something. Sounds like a real stand-up gay man to me. Some other people called about some other shit too, but my brain is still spinning from our history lesson. Well, that or not getting any sleep and the tequila I’m pounding. So just make something up on your own and really, really, really believe in it. That’s how things become actual facts. The fact fairy. And before I go, let me take a moment to tell you about the weather in my area. It is currently 77 degrees Fahrenheit. I really questioned whether we would ever see warmth again in my lifetime, but today gave me hope. Wednesday calls for chances of snow flurries, no shit. Motherfuck. So what’s the weather like in your area? Just kidding, I don’t care about your weather. Only my weather. And that’s why my weather will be winning the world championships of weather this year as it has done for everyday of my awesome guide to life. OH!