At Five In the Afternoon

A 3-week bender comes to an end. We go off-sight from Backspace Bar & Kitchen. J and K.M. reflect on the final weeks of Carnival, Mardi Gras Day, and the general mayhem. Ultimately, it's about loving everything and everyone. If you can't do that, then go fuck yourself and don't listen. Hatred is for losers. 

Well, it happened. Shortly after recording this episode, J blacked out 3 times. A parade was walked in. Rap battles were lost yet won. Massive drug abuse was forgotten. Ultimately, J and K.M. became just two male entertainers on Bourbon St. There's a "gallery pole" video for our OnlyFans members only. Bacchus became a bit too real. J became a goat for a night. 

Prepare for lift-off. K.M. goes hard right on Jeffery Epstein. We make several corrections. Tons of poetry. It's the start of Carnival. You get left alone with J way too much!!! We run dry on content. J's drinking a wine glass full of Tequila. "Ahhh, she will fuck anything that walks."

It's mid February, mid black history month. Everyone from Claude McKay to Langston Hughes, from Marcus Garvey to Maya Angelou. MJ sings the truth. Sign our petition. We recognize the names of continued oppression. Every month needs to be a history lesson. 

Multiple public service announcements. A Valentine's Day gift idea for the guys giving it to the ladies. K.M. propositions Wolfe Blitzer. J takes on the Olympics, CNN, and Pfizer. K.M. finally comes out of the woodwork. Introducing our new segment - The Novel Bar's Crabs-19 virus and vaccine weekly misinformation. #mealso. 

Cult corrections. 4-dead. Thank God, Neil is off Spotify. We might not be talking about the Mormons. Kirtland, Ohio is blind and MJ equals messiah. Formally, we announce J's candidacy for mayor of New Orleans - 2025. sgBC - small government, Big Confidence. 

We're accepting applications!!! Ready join? Listen to us discuss the whose who of cults. Their twisted natures. Their alternating beliefs. Their juicy perversions. We confess what our own cults would be. Fuck it! We'll pretend it's Christmas, Baphomet statues for everyone. Leave your contact info after the beep.  We'll get back to you shortly. 

Thank you Gary, you beat them before they went non-binary. Football needs hockey fights. Pythagoras leads everyone a-stray.  Birds haven't been real for 5 years. The largest mountain on  earth is Hawaii. Pink Floyd is playing. Crabs-19. Shut up. You're not allowed to talk. The Gulf of Tonkin. Wish you were here. Get up, stand up. 

It opens with Australian praise. Quickly, we become Cowboys. Stories of lost justice. Bobby Jones is the best judge in America. I mean "Bobby Lee." We'll never talk about COVID-19 again. We sit by the fire that Tituba tends.  

We say nothing interesting at all. The marijuana and booze rendered us stupid. Only the prose and poems can save this podcast. Then, the Aussie and her country pop star friend shows up. We sound even dumber. Pure American. Please never pick up a gun if you don't want to. Not in the name of any nation.  

We confess our sins. It's a very Merry COVID-Christmas. We're all contagious. Humanity is the disease. How phat am I? Can we explain anything? Doubt it. But we try.  

J returns from El Pescadero in Baja California Sur, Mexico. More white people hating. Go fuck your Tesla, you coal burning prick. We discover the first feminist - Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz.  Cocaine creates a tough couple weeks to follow...more to come on that. 

Time machine. Bad British accents. We go back to the original Thanksgiving. White people suck!!! Every kid wants to be an Indian. Oh Florida, your people are oh so special in that need to be wearing a helmet way. In the end, we're just Everyday People.  

We go to see the The Doors at the Hollywood Bowl. Languidly, languidly, languidly. We do our worst Jim Morrison impressions and reads. AMC, you suck. Paul Blart, we hope your wife hates you. Where was the Dolby we were promised???

A casual conversation ranging from LeBron to Joe Rogan. Austin, TX becomes ground zero for conspiracy theories. What we say is bullshit. So why not listen and believe? Then, please send your hard earned money. Thank you, Art Bell.

We confess our piggish behavior towards women when we were young men.  J tells he and Colorado's origin story. K.M. finally gets his punching bag, it's a zombie. The smack heard across the world of retaliation. Then we hunt the rapist!!! 

Cocaine kills the funny and gets us deep about war. Kids, don't make Molotov cocktails. We were joking and don't want to end up in a Republican Senator's rant or on a NSA watch list. The world better watch out! Germany might do it again. In the end, we tell our Grandfathers' lessons about war.  

K.M's birthday vomit. How many Shakespeares are there? Toga. Toga. Toga. J loses it on the Jesusification of public figures in America. Main lesson learned, wine only leads to screaming. Jupiter's cock! 

K.M. reconnects with some old friends. Stephen Hawking was a sex addict. Hunter S. Thompson reads his poem to Jack. What is it called? Maybe Ode... Lucid dreaming characters from imagination to reality. Humans are good at being animals but make horrible Gods. 

We return to Backspace Bar & Kitchen. Panty Liners. Van Halen. Don't buy underwear drunk. Fuck you, Spencer nobody cared about your dick. Just let women be equal to men already. Jack Kerouac stops by to visit us in our drunken subterranean existence.

Extra content recorded after the Nina's Birthday podcast. Late night drunk talk following K.M's puking earlier. It gets real. Opinions, topics, journeys, basic truths and so, so much more. 

It starts hot!!! Fresh off a day of celebration, K.M. drinks tequila and the Mexican spirit turns him screaming mad at religion. Colorado stops in and aid and abets K.M. We have to send him to anger management classes immediately following the conclusion of the podcast. All on J's poor dog, Nina's, 13th birthday party. 

Our emotional and psychological wreckage is on display as we drag ourselves out from under the rubble of our latest hurricane - Ms. Ida. We are joined by our favorite Backspace bartender, Jared. Together, everyone explores the aftermath, the harbinger's post-log, the final eulogy of a natural disaster...once again. Thus, insanity ensues.

Childhood blooms through the adulthood reflections of Hurricane Ida. All our love to Gerald. We all have the need to display our insecurity in the desert, no matter where that desert may be. Bring out your dead! Show your flesh! Let's pretend our poetry makes sense. Let's get our words naked. 

It starts insane like a massacre. You can't hear the poetry because Gerald is having a stroke induced by insanity. K.M. is hailing Satan. J is pointless reading words. Everything is chaos, until we talk about the first LBGTQ atrocity to hit the United States on a massive level but never investigated or addressed.