Jason Porter, author of the novel Why Are You So Sad?, brings you a new story every week, each about two minutes in length, because who has time for anything longer than that?
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When properly medicated, Jason reads a story exactly 250 words in length followed by some rambling nonsense to help you transition away from the addictive thrill nine out of fifteen listeners experience when being read to by a grown man with the voice of a tender loving wall of sentient granite. Scroll down to listen to past episodes, or even better, subscribe via your fancy phone: iTunes ,…
There are so many advanced products for all of our advanced states of being it is difficult to be sure if we are being the being we ought, might, want to afford to be being.
Oh, like we are supposed to know what anything is about anymore, as if we can just write in here some brief explanation when all the $#!t has gone full on bonkers. Why don’t you tell us what this is about for once. Jesus. Make an effort.
Our brains are our best feature and we are using them to build something to take their place so that we can drool in a corner, or maybe it will all be fine.
We are back with something that feels like it was bent and then stretched and then imprisoned and then released and then mistranslated and then turned into a glass trinket at the shopping mall. Yours to enjoy. Free of charge.
Time is somewhere and wherever it is it is seemingly endless, like our time with the current former current president, endlessly predictable in its suffocating sense of endlessness.
Episode two is totally off the rails. But in our defense there is a nationwide rails shortage. Bonus: This episode includes a free song that will tickle your terror bones.
A new season and an old nemesis. Catch back up with all your favorite characters and learn clever ways to enhance your love life.
Did you ever notice how nobody seemed to notice that nobody was noticing because we were all too busy not noticing?
Take a step into the past, where you were just another hairy kid longing for speech.
