Tremendous thanks to my co-host Bill Zebub, who went above and beyond, salvaging a $400+ pledge from the clutches of our solitary phone volunteer, who was extremely intoxicated and kept speaking jibberish to the caller, and then hanging up, saying that it was a "prank." The pledge was from the patrons at White Star Bar in Jersey City, the result of a collection taken up by Jessica, the pledger / bartender. Also, listeners Bas in Utrecht, Dave in Morristown, NJ, and Jasmine in Maidstone, UK, also checked in with VERY generous pledges within the last 15 minutes of our broadcast. Many listeners checked in throughout the show with generous pledges.
Thanks also to Magda, and Megan McKee for dew-dropping in, and making the broadcast more of a good time than it would have otherwise been, what with two grumpy, sardonic radio hosts in attendance. Must however note that I auto-matically fell into the role of straightman, what with such a naturally intelligent and humorous rake as my co-host.
Some of that lowbrow sex and bar humor I just don't go for (that on the comments board of the flies who flew in perhaps because Bill and I were teamed up; but at least the mooks were listening. The combination of Bill and I is simply too much for lesser men of more simple-humored minds.) One of the moths drawn to the light was sure that calling me "girl" was a supreme insult. Uh oh, I'm suddenly dickless, what ever will I DO!??!!
Bill Z. is a super-bright guy, about 1,000,000 times more bright than well, that guy who was calling himself "Fact Checkers Unbenevolent Association"—and the best insult I can think of for him is that he's a "dick"—a decidedly male insult. If I HAD been born a woman, you'd be gumming up your keyboard to my pictures, you callous fool. I slap thee.
So, one can now count upon MORE DYNAMITE SHIT business as usual and more so, next week's Castle by design will be the most corpse-ripping, noise-exploded, metalpunched broadcast in many a week, MANY A WEEK. I have tons of great material, a highly-toxic palette that I have been forced to hold back for two weeks due to the needs of fundraising, and now the same shall be released, and a great destruction will fall down upon all in its wake. In brief, I may just play three straight hours of music to peel your inner paint to, very little talking.
And on March 15th, you know it, as promised, a live hammering from Wretched Worst.
Those in search of yet more illicit thrills, and/or a "let's settle this outside," can come to Maxwell's in Hoboken on Sunday night for the end-of-the-marathon party featuring the Hoof 'n' Mouth Sinfonia, directed by Scott Williams, wherein yours truly will sing (yes, "sing") Echo and the Bunnymen's "Heaven Up Here." I shit you not.