Sunday, July 24, 2016

NIGHTS AFTER DARK: EPISODE 61 - SHELBY AND ERIK ARE DRUNK AGAIN (LOKED AND WOKED EDITION)




Wow, we have definitely been day drinking! Join us as we discuss such diverse and wonderful topics as Donald Trumps, Pokemans, and Alan Jackson. This one is chock full of drunken rants, so if you like that sort of thing, the line forms on the left!


Direct Download
Listen on Stitcher
Subscribe on iTunes

Check out our NEW WEBSITE

SEND US YOUR AJ MEMES: nightsafterdark@gmail.com

1 comment:

Marianne Kearns said...

Wanna join me?

What's your address in Heaven, dear? Dunno? Mine's 111 Rock-Solid-Ave, Milky Weight, Seventh-Heaven. My sub/dude, neon mansion? Mama mia. A grandiose, exquisitely detailed, 3-acre-stuccoish home in a cul-de-sac with mountain-bike-trails we may conform with our thots. Why limit Almighty God? Why not fire-ALL-cylinders? My intimacy with women Upstairs? Subtle, stupendous -to- supersonic Sunday School which is an excessive exaggeration of our lives woven together: push-button, point-blank, Newtonian-laws-of-improv where one force of kick-ass, party-hardy, white-water-rawness equals every, single, evening with phorNphood, avatars, tender faeries, cereal killers and symbiotic, front-row-seats. Whew. Yes, of course! Baby making is most certaintly an option! ...yet, I gotta wanna see how She feels sharing me. My many planets? Gorgeous girls? Gott'm. Gotta lotta'm. Gotta gobba IQ, too, withe K2 orchestra only accessable to those with adolescent behavior: TOTALLY YOURS!!! How??? Gotta accept Jesus, missy!! Gotta. Wanna. Or you're sooo out-of-order, toots. Therefore, let's accelerate to the Maximum POW!er; let U.S. 'populate' the universe with i2i loyalty to the Bright Son. Wanna join me in God's wild Kingdome?? Chop, chop, dear. Time's running-out for us in this existence finite PS: Time, as an entity, is also mortal: aint no time in Seventh-Heaven, dollface ...yet, puh-lenty of time to love due to the superior-supply-of-summer...

...cuzz the only other realm aint too cool: sweltering, cramped and Fugly rotten; Pokemon sawing-off your cranium with a chainsaw, no purchase necessary; nasty darkness, eternal starvation, Satan lies like a Persian rug; o'er-the-Hillary profusely cakkkling for eternity. How purrrecious! sez Gollum. 'Nuff sed. Decide NOW. Make Your Choice -SAW.

MyCrucifixIsMyFix.blogspot.com
trustNjesus