Prisoncast

Musicians mostly just get tangled up in cables. That’s the truth. We live in this so-called metric world, but nothing fits, nothing connects. Synths, laptops, guitars—boxes stacked and wires everywhere. I rant about the chaos, dream up a universal cord, and scream for something better. MetricWire. Let’s make it real.

Prison Cast: Snobs, Kisses, and Fiery Rants – All Fiction, Zero Receipts Ah, Prison Cast – where Linda and Steve sling wild ideas like they're dodging prison yard drama, all wrapped in a big ol' blanket of "this is totally made-up bullshit." It's the podcast that tickles your brain just enough to make you ponder life's absurdities, but hey, don't quote us in court. We&#...

"He said I could only have bread today." Shocked waitress looks at me. "Well, she was bad." :) Roger met someone and lit up —quiet, secret, smile. We joked it took 11 years, a few cops, and some stubborn spouses to clear the way for love. Then came his 4th of July menu: stuffed chicken with ham and Gorgonzola, caprese salad, dark chocolate cake with raspberry coulis. Music by Circu...

I came in, said what happened. You didn’t hear me. Court was a formality. I stood, spoke, they moved on. I wasn’t allowed at the table. They called me a witness, then asked me to leave. She got everything—rent, deposit, sympathy. That was the end.

Linda lived deep in the West Virginia holla on a full-blown weed farm—mountains, mud, and money. Dennis was a straight-up farmer baller, cloning Purple Haze and Bubble Gum, dodging choppers with black chicken wire, and running the whole damn valley like a boss. Music by Steve "Whatever's gonna happen in my life is gonna happen"

A segmental relic from the threshold of night. Linda in Charleston is already spiraling with Roger in San Diego—riffing on money, music, politics, and RV escape fantasies. Steven surfaces mid-shift from his downstairs Google job for a 15-minute break. His Google VoIP won’t shut up. The phone won’t stop ringing. He can’t even eat one bite. music by mindframe = doli n steve - "Time Time" (a...

Linda tells the story of disbelief in the woods—trees like columns, night pressing in—three orange balls appear, circling, merging, vanishing. No one speaks. It’s not just what we saw—it’s how it felt. Like they chose them. “They reveal themselves.” Then the quiet pact: "Never tell anybody." Music by Circus of Logic (roger doli tim steve) "Area 51"

Government and religion. "We gotta make these people stop fucking snapping turtles." Music by Circus of Logic (doli/roger/tim/steve)

Ever wondered what happens when STD jokes, radical in-laws, and trigonometry collide? We didn’t either—until now. In this episode, Steve gets real about living at “One Easy Street” and trying (and failing) to keep a straight face at the health clinic. There’s awkward laughter, trust tests, and even a breakfast-table punchline about a three-way academic romance that somehow turns sociology into mat...

Such a long trail. Then that trail went sideways.

White dress, red heels, mink coat, an into to Rush in a jar—Linda spirals through DC’s queer underworld, untouched and unbothered escourted by 4 male strippers. After the club, She enters radiant, the only woman in the club, watching her friends dance naked on the bar. Every booth drink and G-string dollar becomes a sovereign relic—not hers, but theirs. She tips, she laughs, then after her entoura...

We just crushed dinner and now we're tangled up in a messy room - bras and boxers... playing cards - thugs in bed. The laptop glows, the window’s sunny, and the bed’s a battlefield. Our room, where strip poker starts in reverse and love always sounds like a fight. Music by Steve "What you do in your bed is your business."

We wondered why nobody was waking up!

Tyler? Who's Tyler?

Where stories fly from prison phones to smoky kitchens. Sydney’s calling from Mount Olive, and we’re all trying to outdo each other with wild memories, dumb moves, and near-death asparagus. Flip-flop escapes, flaming hairspray, five-dollar porch punishments—every tale gets louder, messier, and ends with “you remember that time…” Music by Doli "Guilty"

Me and Linda were just kicking it back and forth. She sang in chorus, got picked, didn’t even know she could sing. I was a shy, nervous kid—biting my nails, scared to speak—but I got up on stage anyway. Just had to face the fear. We both had our things. Linda was flipping on uneven bars like a pro, but nobody saw it. Nobody said, “Hey, you’re good at this.” That’s the part that sticks. You can be...

Linda trolls hard! Blocked by activist judges, not law. Cities are collapsing under violence and filth. A dude who's been in office 40 years—what’s he fixed? A corrupt sideshow to dodge. Bring peace, strength, and sanity? Who pushes chaos, censorship, and decay? I’m done pretending their disaster is leadership. Music by Steve "Ask Yourself"

just stfu

Roger just got back from the bar. Music by Roger and Doli "The Lucky Ones"

Olfactory confessions, broken toilet seats, and a roast of stinky internet personalities. From onion-scented love to social distancing for body odor, it’s a circus of hygiene, fashion crimes, and blood blisters. Nobody’s safe—not even the red robe. Music "Big In America" by Under The Big Top (ron,tim,doli,steve)

"Everything's Not Funny, Steve." Linda woke up pissed. Steve just got off work. One’s trying to drink coffee, the other’s trying not to stare too hard, but staring at Linda is more interesting than looking at a train. Prisoncast, where love sounds like a fight and every episode is a mood swing in motion.

It's about the cupcakes.

Sexual Harassment

Roger’s feeding Juan hot pots again.  Prison Cat’s passed out on the amp.  Talk, trip, remember weird shit.  Sometimes we forget we’re recording.   Sometimes we wish we weren’t. Steve, Linda, Roger—and whoever else wanders in. Juan. Chris. Prison Cat (whoever that is).  It’s a chaotic swirl of weed smoke, wild stories, and unfiltered conversation.  We trip in Alabama. We scream about rice and bean...

Selling Bibles