Episode 613: Creepypasta XXI - The Severance

What if you could turn your curiosity for true crime into a degree? At Southern New Hampshire University, you can. Southern New Hampshire University offers over 200 degrees you can earn completely online, including subjects like forensic psychology, criminology. and crime analysis. And with low online tuition, Southern New Hampshire University makes earning your degree affordable, flexible, and achievable. Find your degree at snhu.edu slash last podcast.

That's snhu.edu slash last podcast. There's a new psychological thriller from Audible you've got to check out. Sacrilege, Curse of the Mabirwi. It stars Caleb McLaughlin from Stranger Things, was written and directed by Nyasha Hatendi, and it's presented in spectacular Dolby Atmos. Here's the setup.

The Wallace family's vacation at a luxury game reserve in Zimbabwe unravels when Deshaun Wallace, played by McLaughlin, unwittingly desecrates hallowed ground and unleashes the Mabirwi, a vengeful entity born from centuries of colonial oppression. Listen to Sacrilege, Curse of the Mabirwi, by going to audible.com slash sacrilege. There's no place to escape to. This is the last talk. On the left.

That's when the cannibalism started. La la la la la, don't be shy, you know you'll find the time you want to kiss the man, woah woah Is it so much worse? Slow down a little bit. I don't know why, but you're dying to try. You want to kiss the man. Yeah, I feel like it's a good way to kind of flip this whole thing. What whole thing?

Like, everybody, like, being kind of upset with that song. What song? I have no clue what you're talking about. It's from Little Mermaid. Little Mermaid. Oh. Yeah. For some reason, the idea of, like, it's a bunch of fish.

I'm begging you to kiss that weird, older, silent man. Yeah. And I think that that's very refreshing. Yeah, that the fish are encouraging that sort of thing? Well, it's not a silent woman. And I think that kiss the girl is so much worse because, you know, it's all these... people like kiss that little girl kiss that little girl kiss the mute yeah but there's something about like people being like kiss that weird man kiss the man kiss the mute man that's also bad why

I don't know. It seems awful. You're making people kiss each other. Maybe it's because I was desperate to find some Gene Hackman erotic fan fiction, and it is sorely lacking.

Welcome to the Last Podcast on the Left, ladies and gentlemen. My name's Marcus Parks. I'm here with the searcher, the man on the eternal mission for Gene Hackman erotic fiction, Henry Zebrowski. You can't handle my balls! That's Jack Nicholson, unfortunately.

From A Few Good Men. That's kind of like, but it's the same genre. I'm trying to figure out what the Crimson Tide, not Crimson Tide, right? Is it Crimson Tide? Crimson Tide. Because Hunt from Red October was Sean Connery. That's, he says it's okay to slap a woman. Yeah. And what was... And U571 is Harrison Ford. Yeah, the bad one. Yes, yeah, yeah, yeah. And, of course, we have the eternal movie critic, Ed Larson. Hello! Two thumbs down, you idiots!

Eddie right now is doing his first ever remote recording as a member of last podcast on the left. Tell me, Eddie, how's that Ramada treating you? I mean, it's going so well that I'm using the hotspot on my phone. You're coming in nicely, though. It's nice, though, with the bedbugs. You know, I'm not sleeping alone tonight. So it's good. There's actually a couple of I did read a couple of rewrites of the scene between Gene Hackman and Morgan Freeman.

in an Unforgiven where he really gets pretty involved. But it's so hard to do that. It's hard to do both because Gene Hackman is such a good actor. And I think that's the problem is it's hard to kind of capture his. Gravitas in a lemon slash fix. It's hard to get that into hearing him sucking Morgan Freeman, sucking his dick dry. It's the delivery with Gene Hackman. Yeah, I can't do it. I can't imagine him being like, Morgan, open up.

That's Gene Hackman foreplay. Morgan, open up. Flip over. Do you think that he could yell while sucking dick? Because he's one of the great yellers of all time. Come on, man! Can show some spine, man! Oh, my God. Oh, man. He really did end his life like Old Yeller, except, you know, the bullet was shot by his pacemaker. Come on. Jesus Christ. He's on the road, ladies and gentlemen. He's on the invasive species tour. He's.

doing standup at night and he's fucking full of beans. He needs to get it out. Oh, Marcus, I got you yours. Jumbo shrimp shirt. Two, three, four. We are the Jumbo Shrimp. Here to play a game. Very good. Still remembered after all these years. It's not hard. It's not a compliment. It was written by an idiot after all. I'll always remember that. Big old idiot who's now a father somehow is upstairs.

and we continue to pay him. I want to say welcome to Creepypasta number... 21. Jesus fucking Christ. We are old enough to drink. Yeah. Which means we're old enough to die internationally. And I hope that that's what this is really what it's about, because Creepypasta 21 is all about you're going to get drafted. It doesn't matter what age you are.

That's creepy just thinking about it, right? You know what I mean? Because the 40-year-olds are going to come for us. They're going to put us in the Metal Musil upgrade. I think partly what we're going to be doing is delivering adult diapers to people all through Eastern Europe, what used to be the Ukraine. And now I think that it's important that we party while we can.

Sure. Okay, because that's what's hard. And Creepypasta's all about getting spooky and feeling ooky with it. So I think the main thing is that, obviously, if you're in your office right now... The scariest thing you can do is work. So I would say is to just quit that. First of all, quit that. Quit your fucking job, man. Quit your fucking job. Fuck your boss. Fuck this shit.

close the laptop. They have, they're watching you do your keyboard. How creepy is that? Your boss is watching your keyboard from his fucking cubicle and he's jerking off thinking about your productivity levels. Yeah, man. All bosses are pieces of shit. That's.

and shouldn't exist. Yeah, fuck your boss. Fuck all bosses. Hey, hey, hey, hey. All right. Well, no, let's not say fuck all bosses. Let's not say all bosses are pieces of shit necessarily. You come for me, you best admit. Some bosses worry, Ed. Some bosses worry constantly. Like RFK Jr. He just worries. He's like, ah, what about, what about the udders? The udders are getting trampled. Now, he's concerned about the udders, not about us. But guys...

I think now you want to go to your weed. You've quit your job. You're on your way home. Your wife or husband's like, what are you doing here? I'm here with our four kids. And you go, shut the living fuck up and let me do what I need to do today. You're going to go into your office and you're going to pack a bowl. You're going to pack that bong and you're going to be, and you don't care what everybody says. Everyone's crying. Oh, you're just trying to detach.

From all your responsibilities. But guess what, man? As soon as you fucking put that rim to your fucking hole, it doesn't matter anymore because you have just become irresponsible. They can't hold you to shit. Forbes mean nothing. It's just ink. What's ink? It's from squids.

What's that? Doesn't fucking matter, dog. That's how we shut them down. All right. Oh, auto sign doesn't count. No, we don't know. Auto sign doesn't count. All right. So fucking you just team that shit. It honestly switched the Indica in the afternoons. For yourself. So you get yourself good and high. Without a job. You're without a future. But you're ready to get really spooky for our episode. That's right. Creepypasta21. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome officially.

I'm going to start off today's episode. I was going to start off with a poem just because I love the title so much. Where trod the black camel? That's like one of those libertarian journals. It does sound like something you'd buy at like a rifle show in like 1994. Yeah. But the poem was terrible. So I'm not going to subject everyone to where trod the black camel, but I will. Can you summarize it?

A man goes into the desert. There's a djinn riding a black camel, I believe. And the black camel is trotting upon the desert and steals the man's soul. I think at the end of it. Yeah. So it's like that America song. Yeah. Yeah. Horse with no name. Yeah. But it's a black camel. I'm just saying. Yeah. It seems similar theme. Also, you're just, you're not doing anything. Name the horse.

You know, like, you're just trotting through the desert. You got nothing to do. Eddie, you have to fill an hour tonight. You need to save this stuff. You're right. I'll go back to sleep. You know this song? You ever heard this song? Horse with no name? You ever heard this song? You spent it all this time. Oh, we're not coming up with a name here? Steve! Hey, I did it! Steve, nay. Eddie, write it down. Eddie, you've got to flesh out the hour. Instead, I'm going to start with a story.

Submitted by a man named Daniel Hale to the creepypasta site Bog Leach. Still a wonderful site. This is called The Splatterpunk Gospel. Do you think he's related to Nathaniel Hale? The American Spy. The American Spy, yeah. Yes, I do. Thank you. I'll respect it now. Spies should not have names. It's bad for them.

But they start with names. Yeah, you got to have a name. You got to be called something. And then erase them. Yeah, because they're still a W-2. 007. The English do it right. I can go with a good... My spy name... You got to have a boring spy name. You have a great... Oh, I have my alias. I can't release it. No, of course you don't. But I just say it's wonderful. Yes. Yeah, mine's too fancy. Wynton Arthur Danforth III. They're looking well. Yeah. Mine's Sebastian Maniscalco.

Yes! Don't you even believe I went to get the coffee? Everything's got whipped cream on it. So that's why you smash a man of Scalco. This... is an excerpt from The Clotted Book being the scriptures and commandments for The Church of Letting Blood. Cool. The vein is the beginning. The vein is the end. The vein is all. This is our world. This is our world of impure blood, scarred over from centuries flowing filth and disease, creating the prison systolic diastolic, making anatomy of sin.

But there is only the vein. Both ends joined in incestuous Ouroboros. The vein suckles itself, mindless machinery. Oblivious to its gullet-reared children. Was this written by a disgruntled nurse? This is like this person that handles my father's IVs. Make no mistake that we are filth-born. We have poisoned the stream from our first bubbling breath, choking it with our soiled selves. Would that we were fewer!

That we had known what damage we were doing from the start. That we had known that this sickened meat creature was getting sicker still as our numbers grew. What did that mean? Would that we cared. And beyond? Oblivion? Or redemption? Absence or occupation? Which truly would be better? What is the threat of hell without a hell? Better that there be after at all. Even if it is torment, it implies respite, however it may come. But none for us! But is this about blood? The vein has soiled us.

It has raised us from the odorous chime. And will return us there. For none remember the path. None remember death. We practice death, or believe we practice it. Our vessels shudder and disgorge their contents. Our ventricles spasm and tangle the works. We think we would be lucky to die in sleep without pain. Our loved ones pray for this because it would be most convenient.

They hold their vigil by our bedside, clutch our shaking hands. Then, when the moment is gone, reassure themselves of the better place that they were so kind to lead us to. And then the casket, or the flame.

the dirt, or the ash. Thus dying quietly, we are complicit in the deception. Death must come obscene and uncaring. It must shake foundations, ruin... delusions it must remind that life cannot be extended that no favors are owed to grieving lovers that bloodlines face extinction death will be dealt and it must be dealt

Harshly. First in so dealing, the vein is dealt a slice in its cancerous carapace. Septic blood is spilled into the unknown void, hastily disgorging the infidel, the blasphemous soul who wore his wounds with pride. shook his exposed crimson bones and torn scraps of sinews to the outraged carrion flock. Then, serum speckled and silent. They cannot deny there is meaningful death. Then they will know.

But the severance is at work beyond these cloying walls. Its Nephilim speak volumes in the quiet behind their masks. They wear totems of our degradation, not to mock us for our fantasy. But to defy the patronage of our heaping host, they claim nothing. Not the favor of higher power, nor the enlightenment of heretics. The processes of anatomy are awake in the world even when the body is greatly reduced.

The severance is inevitable. And I do not care if you trod upon my dead body to do so. But I shall keep Brie Larson from entering the Marvel Cinematic Universe. No matter what you try to do, casting devils. Our work is letting blood. We serve the silver knives and the black galops. The blades and claws and eyes of the severers. The unbelievers follow the flow of their filth, and thus we must damn the flow. Push its path to them. Judasine, your task is this.

Go to the vessels. Speak as they do. Deal as they do. Follow their paths until you surge to the front of a flock. Lead them to the blades, that you may know the severance as they will. Aronite. Your task is this. Caution the vessels. They will be young, with spite in their longing hearts. Tell them something of what lies ahead. Couch it in the fears their betters have known.

Yours is a necessary task, and the severance may choose to grant you reprieve from your suffering of age. Ensure that the tide flows true from now to the crumbling. The greater the pain of the vessels. The wider the stain their blood shall reach on those who remain in the foundering vein. Let the blood spill the filth. Sever the flesh.

Very intense. Is that the other chapter of the libertarian poetry book? Yeah, that camel poem must have really fucking sucked. I like it because I like a performance aspect. Yeah. But he's mostly just yelling about veins. And blood. And blood. And severance. And severance. Yeah. And Ouroboros. And this is not an Apple TV tie-in. It is not.

To the show severance. It is not. Which I think is a different severance than this, but I refuse to watch it because I don't watch shows while they're on television. Yeah, you can see that performed whenever we see moody blues in hell. It would be good. Honestly, that needs some good chugging metal underneath it. Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. You need to get that fucking thick ass fucking slut.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get some sludge. No, that definitely calls for some stoner metal, without a doubt. I went the opposite way. Okay. So I got just creepy stuff. And I think that this is, it's interesting because I went through some of our old... listener pastas and i went through some other forums i went through because i i always struggle like

with trying to find something that maybe is genuinely creepy. Yep. 20 times you've tried and 20 times you've failed. And so what I'm going to do now is... Because you are not genuinely creepy. I'm sorry, but you're a clown. I am. Doctor, I am Magliacci. You could be killing someone and still make them laugh. That's what I hope. That better be my review on my murder Yelp.

This podcast is brought to you by Squarespace. Squarespace gives you everything you need to offer services and get paid all in one place. Seems amazing, right? It's because it is. From consultations to events and experiences, showcase your offerings with a customizable website designed to attract clients and grow your business, which is good because let's just say I need it.

You know, as you may or may not know, I lost HorsePix.com in a very, very public and embarrassing auction to a young man by the name of Charlie Bucket. who has decided to take my horse picks and drive it towards the right. Some of the incendiary horse picks that I've seen, including Steve Bannon... on a Clydesdale. One of the worst I saw was Ivanka Trump inside of a mayor.

And I know that this is not the direction that I saw horsepicks.com. And that little boy, I didn't know that he'd become a full-fledged Nazi. and grow his hair into broccoli shapes, and do all sorts of things I don't understand, which is why I've started emupaintings.com. Thank you, Squarespace, because emupaintings.com are really, it's an exceptional way for me to get you.

paintings of emus in various positions that emus would normally be. And in a way, I find it both amusing and inspiring to see what emus can do. using the painter's brush and imagination. And if it wasn't for Squarespace, I would be absolutely effed to the gills. That's the term for being absolutely S. out of luck. So Squarespace, thank you for streamlining your workflow with built-in tools because I would not have been able to get this website up fast enough.

due to the legal fees I've received and the personal heartache and my own health deteriorating. I just want to say thank you, Squarespace, for all your help. emupaintings.com is going to be just as good and just as funny and relevant. I promise. Head to squarespace.com slash left for a free trial. When you're ready to launch, use offer code LEFT to save 10% off your first purchase of a website.

Or domain. You know what doesn't belong in your epic summer plans? Getting burned by your own wireless bill. Leave it to the sun. While you're planning beach trips, barbecues, and three-day weekends, your wireless bills should be the last thing holding you back. Make the switch to Mint Mobile. I call it a 10-finger discount because I got two margaritas in each hand and I forget to pay the bill. With a plan starting at $15 a month, Mint Mobile gives you premium wireless service on the nation's...

largest 5G network. That is five. The plans come with high speed data and unlimited talk and text. So while your friends are sweating over data coverages and surprise charges, you'll be chilling. Literally and financially. I hope you're not too chill because that's the temperature of a corpse. We love Mint Mobile here. Anybody who has Mint Mobile, it's like you're a cousin of mine. Don't you ask me for money.

Why don't you even think of asking me for money? Just that I know that we all like Mint Mobile. And that's enough. of a relationship. We don't need more than that, okay? This year, skip breaking the sweat and breaking the bank. Get your summer savings and shop premium wireless plans at mittmobile.com slash LBOTL. That's mittmobile.com slash L-P-O-T-L.

Upfront payment of $45 for a three-month, five-gigabyte plan required, equivalent to $15 per month. New customer offer for first three months only. Then full price plan options available. Taxes and fees extra. See Mint Mobile for details. You're traveling. It's summer.

Let's face it. You're going to do something. Maybe you're a teacher. You got a bunch of free time. You're still getting paid. What are you going to do? You're going to go somewhere weird that you've never been before. And leaving the country, it's already stressful. It's good to just...

know a little bit more about where you're going, whether it's Mexico or France. It's good to know a little bit more about how to communicate with the people where you're going. And plus, you know, you got to know what you're ordering off the menu. What are we even talking about here? At least for the waiters and waitresses across the world.

Learn a couple things. Start speaking a new language with confidence thanks to Babbel's conversation-based technique that quickly teaches you useful words and phrases about the things you actually talk about in the real world. available on Babbel are English, German, Spanish, Italian, French, Brazilian, Portuguese, Turkish, Polish, Indonesian, Dutch, Norwegian, Danish, Swedish, and Russian.

to those places and talk to the people. One thing that I love, and you obviously know that I love this, it's talking. And I want to talk to everyone no matter where I am. And so traveling the world is amazing. You learn so much about everything. everyone, everywhere, especially... if you can actually talk to them. So let Babbel help you out with that. Learn another language. Babbel is gifting our listeners 55% off subscriptions at babbel.com slash left. Get up to 55% off.

off at babbel.com slash left spelled b-a-b-b-e-l.com slash left babbel dot com slash left rules and restrictions may apply so let's go and look at this is a story from one of our listeners oh my god the actor ryan reynolds

Oh, how nice. I didn't know he was into this stuff. It's from a man named Ryan Reynolds. It's from Peppermint Mobile. It's the other Ryan Reynolds. Ryan Reynolds is quite a common name. Whoa, yeah, I guess it is for you whites. Unlike me. What, the pinks? Oh, yeah. I'm European. The hot dog people. Listen, listen, okay? I think I'd know if I was white or not. Mm-hmm. You bleed mustard. That's yellow. This story is 100% true. A little background information.

Growing up, we never really had a close relationship with our grandparents on my mother's side. My grandfather was an alcoholic World War II veteran, and my grandmother a housewife who married my grandfather out of wedlock sometime in the 1940s. Hopefully after the war. From what I was told, they never loved each other and they just stayed together out of convenience and the old adage, misery loves company. In the early 1990s, I would have been a toddler.

and my two brothers a few years older than me. This time period is when we were at my grandparents' home the most. I believe this was an attempt for my parents to try and garner a somewhat normal relationship with our grandparents. It always works like that. Yeah. Always toss them in extra with toxic people. More time, the better. It always works out. It never backfires and they never manipulate your children from the inside out.

No, no, no, no. Throw children into as many bad relationships as possible. Like, if you can show them a really bad example of two people together. I'd let them sort it out. Provide no commentary. Because you'll always remember my grandmother just... pinching my my sister underneath the table every time she tried to eat and i always remember my grandmother grabbing me by my side meat going you eat chocolate and it's gonna give you a heart attack i saw one of my my great

for the first time like i saw her when i was a child and i saw her and how great was she horrible she was i remember i saw her i hadn't seen her in 20 years i show up and the first you got fat right out the gate As soon as I walked in the door, I was like, I've always been fat. Yeah. Well, you're still fat. Yeah. You were so fat when you were born, they wrote a newspaper article about it. A whole bunch of them. I still view him as just big. Yeah.

Now, my grandparents' home was a ranch-style built house in a neighborhood constructed around the late 1950s. Ranch, the dressing or the structure? I think it's the dressing. Because we actually grew up in a Thousand Island style home. My grandfather took care of the property. And my grandmother had an immaculate home.

This is the type of home where plastic was on the furniture and the carpet was a sea foam green with mirrored squares glued to the living room wall. Exactly. I know this home. Yes. My grandparents had a living room we could not enter. I don't remember much of the time spent at this home too much as they were just fleeting memories of my childhood that me nor my brothers put much value into later life. Later life. But one thing that we all remember was the stairs.

There was a set of stairs that ran down into a dark basement. A set of stairs. I thought they meant like the grandparents staring at them for hours on end. That's just old grandpa peepers. I love my Grandpa Peeper's always making sure I'm clean. Get your feet. Now get you to the back of your legs. Get the back of your legs. Yeah, good, good, good. That's wet. That's wet. Now get your front. Get your front. Get your front folds. Play with the tits. That's just my...

My first set of stairs. Yeah. Second set of stairs. Let me get my, get my jeweler's glass. Second set of stairs is illegal. That's when I'm looking inside your porthole That's Molestation everybody Now, it seems worse than that. It is. It actually, you know what? It's so much worse just to have you bend me over and look me in my butthole and not fuck me. There was a set of stairs.

I ran down to the dark basement where my grandfather's workshop was. This descended about 12 stairs down and sat between the kitchen and the garage. At the top, a landing no bigger than three feet by three feet sat nestled.

at the top of the staircase. You know, for somebody who didn't really think about it much, he sure does know a lot of details about dimensions. He's upset about the stairs. As children, me and my brothers would get really, really dark vibes and feelings when standing at this spot on the stairs.

This even became like a child's horror game to stand on the landing for as long as you could as some type of play on the Bloody Mary game. I remember around the time I was three, I began having night terrors about the stairs. I do not remember the exact details. It was more than a sense of a fever dream that just rifled me with terror at night. These images would involve the stairs and a dim red light.

This was something I couldn't explain or articulate to anyone as I was so young, which I understand. I had reoccurring creepy dreams that I could not explain when I was a kid. Like I had to dream always that I was in a crib in a castle on fire. Yeah. I always had a dream that Greedo from Star Wars, a bunch of them, but they were glowing blue and they all had different symbols on their chest with different ways to tickle me. And then they would all surround me and tickle me.

Until I exploded. And then I would wake up. You think this is a play on some kind of inner anti-Semitic thought or something? Because Greedo. Was the evil, obviously he was the Jewish stereotype in a way. No, he wasn't. You're thinking of Watto. I'm sorry. Watto was the obvious Jewish stereotype in episode one. I'm talking about Greedo, the green man that Han Solo shot in the Mos Eisley Cantina.

I feel better now. You're right. I feel good now. Okay, good. Man, my regular dream was, you'll be ready for this. I'm in Africa on the beach and then an orca beaches itself and I'm trying to push it back into the water and I'm there with another.

a guy who's like a soldier or something and then the orca rips his arm off and then like and then starts like thrashing around and the dude dies bleeding screaming on the beach is this real yeah this is real i've had this dream more than once yeah really yeah You didn't say this through your entire SeaWorld series. Well, it had nothing to do with it. It does. It has exactly to do with it. I'm saying it now. What the fuck?

So anyway, there's a button. So then I look at I don't know what to do. So I take the guy's gun and I can't get the orca back in the water. So I just shoot the orca in the head, you know, and then I look down the beach and the beach is just like 20 more orcas. And so I just got to walk down the beach. and shoot each orca in the head. It's sad, but things happen.

You did an entire episode about whales. Had he never said this? And you had to systematically shoot a bunch of whales in your dreams. More than once. Jesus fucking Christ. Of course you're obsessed with it. Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. So, you know, but they die in my dreams, but most of them live in real life. Unless they're captured. We don't need to do that episode again. Why don't we just let the boy go? This reminds me of the Murder Fist sketch. Why didn't we let the boy live?

As I grew up, we grew away in a relationship with my grandparents as they didn't seem interested in fostering a relationship with us, as grandchildren specifically. Without going into too much detail, it was shed to light that they were extremely cruel and... toxic people. When I was in my early 20s, I was having a talk with my dad, like one of those talks when you sit down with a cigar and talk about the crazy stuff you did when you were young, about the repercussions since you're an adult now.

The discussion of my grandparents came up as they recently had sold their home and all of their possessions and were placed in retirement and hospice living. Good for them. After a few back and forth jabs about the plastic covers on the furniture and the porcelain cat statues, the stairs came up. I said, hey, remember those stairs of that house? Those were severely creepy.

especially for the ambiance of that house. My father became seemingly uncomfortable. He went quiet for a while and proceeded to tell me a personally haunting story for him. My father stated in the 1980s he was a motorcycle mechanic working at a shop that was privately owned. The owner we will call Jack became one of his best friends and they regularly hung out, fixed stuff, drank beer.

Cool guy stuff. Did you say thick stuff drank beer? Thick stuff. Thick stuff. Thick stuff like guys do. Yeah. They're always fixing stuff and they're all fixing each other and they're all wet. What do you think thick stuff would be? Like if someone said like, hey, come on over. We're going to do some thick stuff. Yeah.

Thick stuff. I know what that means. What does it mean? It means jamming things inside of me. In my mouth and my butthole. Except if it's Eddie. If I'm talking to Eddie, then it means barbecue. Yes. And if Limp Bizkit were carpenters, they could... change their song to fix stuff i mean that would also that would hurt the whole brand they can't be fixing things

Now, he said that his buddy Jack had a wife and three young children. My father stated that one day Jack had gone home after work and opened the garage door to go inside. And he said that Jack's wife's car was in the garage running. Jack's wife was in the car dead. Jack went to the door that leads inside from the garage to call 911 from the kitchen. The door was blocked. Jack went through the front door to find his three children dead on the landing.

above the stairs. His wife had committed suicide by running the car in a closed garage and locked the car going into the garage from the kitchen. The children waited on the landing for their mother to come back inside and died as well from the car. monoxide. This broke Jack as obviously his whole family was dead in a tragic manner. The house went up for sale as soon as he couldn't bear to live there anymore. And a few months later, my grandparents bought that exact house.

Let me specify this wasn't because they were financially broke and it was their only option or anything like that. I turned flush after hearing this. One that my grandparents were so terrible, they bought a house their son-in-law's best friend family had died in, but also the torture my dad had to endure every time we visited them. I've had a few paranormal experiences, but when someone asks me if I believe in the paranormal, paranormal, or afterlife energy type stuff, I tell them this story.

I was a kid. I didn't know any of the backstory. Yet the same exact spot where his kids died, me and my brothers, three children, just as Jack's family, could feel the despair and horror. I've driven by the house once in a while over the past decade to see a new family. living there and wonder if they feel the presence of the dead kids on stairs knock ask yeah investigate dude but you know the kids died there of course you have those feelings

Well, no, they said that he did not know. They didn't know his kids. When they were kids, they didn't know. He didn't know until he was older. It was creepy. But this is like, what a great opportunity. Nothing would be better being like... Do you know who died in this house? Regis Philbin. You know, you can make up a bunch of shit.

I mean, you get to say, who goes there? And all that stuff. You would not go to knock on, like when you're Aunt Patty, God rest her soul if she ever passes. She's alive. She's alive. If she ever passes, I don't think she'll die. Is that if we go to sell that house, which is extremely haunted, it's the same. Then you can hang out outside of that house and tell people that it's extremely haunted.

No, she left the haunted house like 20 years ago. We can go to that house and tell them it's haunted whenever we want. We should. Yeah, that one's in Linden. If you're going to do that, I think the polite thing to do is instead of telling them the whole story, write up a little one sheet of what happened. Slip it under the door. Slip it under the door and say, I shall return on the morrow to discuss. Man, we're leaving. got to do this. Yeah.

Well, yeah, that's a good thing to do to just anybody. I'd probably do it at the Ramada tonight. Eddie, can you please do it? Can you please go and be like, is there wailing coming from your room? Like, write it in Sharpie. I hear a ghostly mo- coming from your room yeah if it's not you duck all right i got a story marcus sent me this one it's very sweet

This one that I saw this one and it reminded me of Murderfest. All right. Had things gone a different direction. All right. What, towards success? Getting a television show? Being in charge of public? All right, it's called Audience. audience it's called audience um by the audience ron and we live for the applause oh that's a great song ron mac guillivray thank you mac Ron Macfote Kilvary for sending this. All right. I had recently moved to New York and I was taking the subway back home.

It was just me, this homeless man next to me and a bunch of other people around my area. Everything was pretty peaceful, so I decided to distract myself by taking out my phone and... Opening Twitter. As I was scrolling down the page, the homeless guy next to me moved forward, leaned in and said, My name's Terry. I was at a show once.

I ignored him. Started checking my news feed. I've had so many of these fucking interactions. I've had so many of these. I do comedy too. You want to hear something? Okay. The gremlin's my brain. Say, don't kill you right now. Looks to me like you got a bag of dildos with you. What you planning on doing with that? You want to see mine? They're all covered in shit. Yeah. You know why? I'll show you.

Yeah, it's right here. The bag is my asshole. Sorry, that was my punchline. That was my big tag phrase. He started again. No, really, I was. It was avant-garde. We would walk around town and act out these little plays in public. Some people ignored it, but there were always others who paid attention and loved it. You never, man. How is it? Right?

Whatever, Craig Robinson did a show at the store last night, apparently for nine people. All right, it happens. We gave 110%, no matter who was in the audience. That's right. Even if there was nobody. Some of our best shows were in front of nobody. Really? Honestly, no one ever saw our best work. That's called rehearsal. No.

No, no, no. It was in a theater. Oh, no. It was in a theater with an empty house. I've been in. You were there. Yeah, I was there. And I've been in a dozen bands over the years. And when you play to nobody, it's a public rehearsal. But it's kind of almost better than a show. I surprisingly wasn't sad about it. Anyway, I was sad. I didn't answer. I tried to use my silence to tell him to leave me alone, but he kept talking.

Yeah, it was pretty great. We'd act like morons and give speeches and shit. Just having fun. acting out little scenes wherever we felt like it. We were doing it for ourselves. That's what we thought. No, this is not fair. Then we kept doing it even when we were alone.

we just always felt like somebody was watching we really realized we were playing it all out in front of a real audience we started hearing them around us i was this is such a oh my god this really makes me sad this really fucking makes me sad we used to say stuff like this you just think like it's all about just building a place that they'll come they'll come to the show they'll have to come they'll hear

The circus comes. Everyone loves a circus. I was listening to him, if only to know what was going through this crazy person's head. He looked up at me, and this crazed look came into his eyes. We could hear the real audience. The one we knew we were playing for all along. So we changed the show. Maybe it was more edgy, you know, exciting. We'd wait till people were alone, and then we'd hurt them. Yeah.

Give a real hard time and shit, you know? The audience loved it. I love this guy. We had total freedom. Anything we wanted. We could. Anything. or anyone. Now, I feel like I'm just at the store. I feel like I'm talking to a stand-up comedian. Now, I was fully listening to this guy's story, but when I turned to look at him, his hand was deep in his pants. Shocked, I...

Turned to the other people on the train with me, but they were ignoring it. One woman in a suit shrugged her shoulders as if saying, Sorry, your problem. I had never hated someone. As much as I did in that moment. Oh, whatever, man. He's just trying to make it. He's a comedian. The pervert next to me continued. Yeah. Anything, man. We started like. Really hurting people, you know?

I can totally see you doing this to like a lost Asian family on the train that's just visiting New York. I see Eddie at 28 years old. Like literally being like, yeah, yeah, we do a lot of fucked up. shit at night here you're like yeah yeah you guys are going out to eat not me i'm going out to drink i don't eat yeah well the whole show shifted when we first killed someone

The first time, it was an accident. But the audience loved it, man. They cleaned it all up. Almost licked it clean. Now we had to give them what they wanted. We started killing more people, doing awful things to them. He still had his hands in his pants when he said it. And then he began to pant loudly. Ah, yeah. We did whatever we wanted, man. Whatever we desired. We'd catch people alone and devour them. Use them. And the audience cleaned it up. Nothing could touch us. We were primal.

Like animals. Totally free. We've killed kids. Animals. There's so much pent up in us. It was like a breath of. Fresh air. Letting it all out. His hand was out of his pants as soon as he stopped talking and he grabbed me by the neck. He forced me to turn. Same hand. Yeah, oh yeah. Get some hand sanitizer. He forced me to turn to his dirty face and I was too terrified to fight back at all. He looked deep into my eyes and smiled widely.

That was when the train started slowing down. It wasn't screeching to a halt, just slowing. Like time itself was stopping outside the window. I stared at the people around me, yet somehow didn't notice. The homeless man's face went blank then, and he let me go. I breathed a sigh of relief, and he got up. Said to no one in particular. No guys. She's okay. We'll have a show later. Then the train started to speed up. But not by much.

Time seemed to be shifting back to normal, but we were still in the tunnel. I looked back to the homeless man as he walked casually to the doors. It took a moment to explain to myself what was happening. Then I stared in other shock as every person that had been around me got up and moved down to the same doors. They stared at me with bored looks and a couple of them smirked with pure malice in their eyes. Then the same businesswoman who had shrugged said, Sorry folks, really.

Show's over. Terry said to leave her. Then from all around me came sighs. From every direction and every place came disappointed, resigned sighs. I looked around wildly for loudspeakers or microphones, but I found none. The voices were coming from no one, yet I could feel them all around me. Then time shifted abruptly back to normal, and the train pulled into the station. I was hyperventilating, not able to piece together the train of events.

The group shuffled out of the station, and Terry said to the group, pointing to a teenager going up the escalator to the exit, There! He's perfect! Why not the woman? Why not the woman? He didn't like her. She wasn't good enough. And the entire group of people followed him out of the station towards the boy.

as the sounds of claps and hollers that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere echoed through the station. The woman was in on it! Yeah, you know what it feels like? You know what it honestly feels like? This whole thing, it's like the Merle Haggard thing. You're playing to the audience, it shows up.

That's right. Like all of this stuff is about like, no, you have to curate your audience. Yeah. You can't just play to whoever's around there telling you what to do. You can't listen to just the audience telling you what to do. What subway station do you imagine here? I imagine Hoyt Skimmerhorn. I literally. Wow. That's weird. That is really weird. I also thought G-Train. Yeah. For sure. It had a definite G-Train feel. You know what there needs to be? A pill.

That makes comedians feel like this. And we will cut some of the pack. down if we just give people the idea that they're being watched by an audience maybe that will actually help some of us stop Yeah, so you want to induce schizophrenia in people. Honestly, if I could just feel beloved, I wouldn't have to do this ever again. If I could fill that hole inside of me, I could be a happy person. but I don't think I can't schizophrenia should be our new sketch group name. Whoa.

Oh, schizophrenia. Yeah, with the skits. Yeah, schizophrenia. And it's all for free and you're all street musicians or street performers. We bring skits at you. Yeah. You want skits? Too fucking bad. That's the tag. Yeah, but you are bringing skits. What do you mean? You say you want skits too fucking bad. That implies that you're not giving them skits, but you are...

forcing skits upon people. I'm letting you know that I'm going to bring skits by asking you. But I don't care what the answer is. And if you say yes, we probably won't do skits. Sketch-a-frania. Ugh. Now it's getting serious. Fly from your grave. Factor!

Summer's here. More sun, more light, more factor. More time to do all the things that make summer so special, like factor. I like to eat my factor piled up. The number one thing you don't want to be doing all summer, honestly, spending hours cooking inside a hot kitchen. That's where factor comes in. Factor is family.

Factor's chef-crafted, dietician-approved meals are ready in just two minutes, taking the hassle out of eating well with nutritious breakfasts, on-the-go lunches, premium dinners, and guilt-free snacks and desserts. Factor powers your day.

Sun up to sun down. I love Factor. I love their savory dishes. The meat dishes are very good. It's pretty quick. And also when you heat it up, and I'm going to say there's not a lot of people that talk about this, about it's nice when you heat it up because it doesn't make the office smell. Horrible. It smells like a nice meal. And that's truly the nicest thing I can say about Factor, is that it's something you can eat without alienating everyone you work with.

Get started at factor meals dot com slash left 50 off and use code left. 5-0 off to get 50% off plus free shipping on your first box. That's code LEFT50OFF at factormeals.com slash LEFT50OFF for 50% off plus free shipping. Factormeals.com slash left50off. Have you ever had that moment where your kid asks for help with homework and you're like, you're a 10-year-old chihuahua. How am I supposed to answer that?

Or maybe your child's ahead of the curve and getting bored in class. Tell me all about it. Garmy keeps chewing on all the pencils. Whether your kid is struggling or soaring, IXL can make a real difference. iExcel is an award-winning online learning platform that helps kids really understand what they're learning. It covers math, language arts, science, and social studies from pre-K all the way through 12th grade. It's fantastic.

Don't miss out. IXL is used in 96 of the top 100 school districts in the U.S. One in four students in the U.S. are learning with IXL. The kids got all different maths. It's all different than when we used to do. They read different books. The letters, I think, are different. What is Riz? There's many different things I don't understand. And that's what's important about IXL. It helps teach the children. So you go check out that IXL, all right? Enjoy yourself.

Make an impact in your child's learning. Get IXL now. Last podcast and left listeners can get an exclusive 20% off IXL membership when they sign up today at IXL.com slash left. Visit IXL.com slash left. the most effective learning program out there at the best price. You know that moment at night when you're locking up, turning off the lights and you just want to feel completely safe before heading to bed?

That's what SimpliSafe can give you. Or an exoskeleton that you sleep in. Most security systems only take action after someone breaks in. But SimpliSafe's new active guard outdoor protection helps stop break-ins before they happen. They're arresting criminals at their homes. And the new vacation sweep that SimpliSafe has with some pretty amazing can also catch criminals when they're on vacation. We love SimpliSafe. It keeps our laughter safe and it keeps it close.

Visit SimpliSafe.com slash LPOTL to claim 50% off a new system with a professional monitoring plan and get your first month free at SimpliSafe.com slash LPOTL. There's no safe like SimpliSafe.

All right, my next story is by an author named Neon Minerva. Ooh. It's called Dreams of a Rotted Mind. All right. Vignettes. Yeah. A few vignettes. This is a chapter in the Zizian Manifesto. Far away, in a desolate, horrid, rotten land where almost nobody lives anymore, there lies a small man rotting on the ground. Even his mind starting to rot. Don't you wonder what his dreams are like? They're bad. They're not nice. They're not nice.

Hey, I just did that character. This is a stupider version of Terry. First dream. Six people sit in a waiting room. Pictures of teeth and eyes cover the walls. A nurse walks out and approaches a man. The roach says you're weird. The man walks off, frustrated with this outcome. Several minutes pass before she comes out again and approaches a woman. The roach says you're stupid.

She looks as though she's about to punch the poor nurse in the nose. She walks out. About an hour passes, and one man checks his watch. The nurse finally walks out again. The wretch says you're a dead man! He feels all his teeth melting in his mouth and spits them out into the garbage can, nearly throwing up in the process. His eyes snap out of their sockets and blood sprays from them as if under high pressure. He feels like several holes have been poked into his heart. His body shriveled.

to a point where it doesn't look human anymore. I'm sorry. I think this whole thing's an allegory about healthcare. I think so. Dream number two. The girl knocked on the door. Earlier, a man had complained, said that they were making too much noise. But it seemed pretty quiet to her. When nobody answered her knocks, she tried opening it herself. It was unlocked. Nothing could be seen in the room until she flipped the light switch. She saw things she never should have. Oh, yeah.

humanoid creatures were cutting into each other with knives they had no blood and they were easily cut through like clay cool one had its head cut off it was still moving cool she heard somebody call from the other room and when she entered another woman was trapped beneath a sticky Flesh-colored substance. Help me, help it. That's exactly what she said. Help, help me. Help, help, it's a big pink snowman. There's a pink snowman on me. Help me, the woman cried.

and her skin rolled down her face with her tears. Whoa. A hand came out of the wall and ran through the woman's hair, pulling out clumps of coagulated blood. Become one, it said. The woman's head fell. The girl screamed and knew she had to get out. She will never forget what she saw that day. I gotta stop taking melatonin. It's not good. It's not good. I'm not good. Dream three.

Oh, God, I don't want to have one of these dreams. I just want to have a nice dream. Me hanging out with Hayden Penitar. Yay, from Heroes. Remember? Cali Lata! I did that with her, hot mama! It's a whole day of C.W. Stars! I love it! Oh, yeah, the flesh! That was a joke. Dream 3.

I started the day like any other. I ate breakfast and left my apartment. Nobody I saw in the streets had any facial features apart from dents where their eyes should have been, which seemed to be colored in with black marker. Then I saw him, the odd one out among the crowd, a guy who still had his face intact. He motioned for me to walk into an alley. Come closer, please. I don't know why, but I trusted him. I don't know why I trusted him, but I did.

In the alley, two other people lay sleeping. Close my eyes for just a second. And in that impossibly small bit of time, everything went horribly wrong. The man I trusted now had a radio for a head, playing a horrible, grating, static noise that nobody should ever be forced to hear. This is about the media! The person on my right had only a large mouth on his face, constantly. screaming in agony. Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!

The person on my left had become a large, fleshy mass with a zipper down its front, trying to unzip itself with its spindly legs. I'm trying to change into my bathing suit. Then the entire world fell apart. I don't even remember my name anymore. I don't remember who I am. I don't know where I am either. All I remember is that one day, the rotted man woke up. He started walking. A large green pyramid looming above him. Best pro shops.

My favorite place in Memphis. He walked and kept walking past all the remnants of a time where life existed. He just kept walking in his own personal... Nowhere. Thank God I got my AirPods. Yeah, it kind of sounds nice. Yeah, yeah, I could use the break. Walking in his own personal nowhere towards the Green Pyramid. Yeah, I could spend an afternoon doing that. Got me on four edibles on a plane. Yeah, it's like a happy pasta.

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. A relaxer pasta. Yeah. Yeah, because that's kind of nice. Now, I just took this story.

This is from a random Redditor. This isn't a true scary story. I just read this, and it was just... I thought it was interesting. It was a subtle ghost story. Okay. All right. I shall listen closely for the subtleties. Odyssey Pop. Odyssey Pop? That's the name of the person who wrote it. Okay. What's the name of the story? It's called I Heard My Friend's Deceased Husband. Oh, okay. That's fun. Did he fart after death? Yes. Yes, Eddie.

He was big enough farting and drinking piss. So all he heard, she heard the... Because he always had a big Stanley brim into the rim with fucking hot piss. And he used to just go on it. So cool, man. I love that. It's cool. His own piss or somebody else's? Whatever you get. Okay. Whatever was hot. Piping hot. Sometimes it's nice you pop in the microwave if this has been sitting out.

I was house pet sitting for my next door neighbor, friend, Angel, while she was in Hawaii. She's a widow, and I was just taking care of her two cats, an elderly Yorkie. All I had to do was feed them, play with them, clean their litter box. It's good. Fun times. That's cute. Then while she was still gone, her dog passed away. I called her, did what she needed to be done, and put him in the freezer like she asked. Great.

That night after everything settled, I went out to the- Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. So the dog died and the friend said, Put it in the freezer till I get back. Literally just said, hey, pop it in there. If you could move the nugs to the queen's fridge in the garage, then I could get some time. Because it's a Yorkie. Yeah, Yorkies are very small. Also, some people have, you know, an extra freezer that, you know.

It's just a freezer. I can't believe that the two of you are not looking at this as an issue of like, hey, put the dead dog in the freezer. And the two of you are looking at it as a space issue. Yeah, you got to wrap it up. I mean, it's better in the freezer than, you know, getting out in the elements. exploding. If you wrap it in a bunch of plastic and stick it in a couple paper bags, it's not going to do too much. Yeah, it'll stay for years.

It depends on how it died. If it was hit by a train, don't put it in the freezer. Yeah, I'm not going to scoop it up. It needs to have done, to be honest, in a moment of pure... Ashness hung itself with a rope or, or, you know, choked itself in the, in the stove. But I think that, yeah, it has to be one piece. Yeah. I haven't grown up in the country. I need, when I hear dead dog, my mind immediately goes to violence. Cause I only had one dog that did not die by violent means.

No, no, no. This is a dog that had checked its way out old-fashioned style. Yeah. Went out of the house, didn't come back. Now it's in the freezer. Beat to death by hammers. You're right. That's the hardest part. That's one of the hardest deaths to deal with as a pet owner. Because we all go through it at least once. Yeah.

Goddamn automatic hammers. I'm sick of these automatic hammers. Everywhere you go, you got to watch your dog around these automatic hammers. Sorry. So I was hanging around your house and I saw this button. and... The automatic hammer button? I pushed it. Yeah, I should have said some dog's dead. Thanks. Yeah, I figured he likes to hang out in the automatic hammer machine. Alright, that night.

It's a common mistake. It happens. This is the third time I've had a Yorkie. I need to stop putting it right next to the toilet flusher. I need a great date. Something my baby could just get his head in there, I guess. That night after everything settled, I went out to the back patio for a smoke. Around midnight, I started packing up my stuff, turning up the lights, and getting ready to go home. And then I heard it. A bark. But not from a dog.

It was a man's voice. Bark. Yep. Like someone imitating a bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. I stopped, turned around, and looked. My house to the left of angels, there's a vacant house to the right. Behind her place is another house with motion sensor lights, and there's no one there. Then I heard it again. Once, bark. Then twice, bark, bark. It sounded like someone was just standing. Just on the other side of the fence.

Messing with me. Hold on a second. Marcus, are you an actor? Bark. Bark, bark. That's exceptional. Thank you. Exceptional. I specialize in interspecies performance. Oh, yes. Yes, very much. Now, can you please do it? cat. Meow. Perfect. Jesus. Get it out of here. The barking got louder. Bark, bark. More frequent. Bark, bark, bark, bark. Like whoever was doing it was having way too much fun scaring me. Bark.

Bark, bark, bark, bark. And the weirdest part, it didn't feel like a person. Oh. I don't know how to explain it, but something about it was just wrong. Okay. Off. Bark. Bark. That was all I needed to nope the hell out of there, so I ran. The barking got louder as I booked it. But the second I reached the front yard, silence. I didn't stop until I was inside my house.

My husband called me down, listened to the whole thing, and said it was probably just some idiot playing a prank. Definitely not him. I wanted to believe him, but I was still freaked out. Fast forward to a few days. I was outside smoking with my mother-in-law, and I randomly brought it up. Told her the whole story. She barely reacted. Just nodded and said, Oh, yeah, that's Rex. No, she was more like, Oh, yeah. I was like, I'm sorry, what? She explained that Angel's late husband Rex...

Used to bark at her from over the fence as a joke. And the next day I told Angel and she confirmed, yep, that was something old Rex used to do. I still won't go back there at night. Afraid of the bark. Okay. Just afraid of the bark. Afraid of the bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. Bjork. Whoa.

Whoa, that blind, the one where she was blind. Yeah. Oh, Dancer in the Dark. Yep. Dancer in the Bark. That's just a vocal tick. Now it's just a vocal tick. Yeah. But yeah, she's just afraid of the guy going Bark. Why is it like what is it like a it's a ghost dog?

No, it's a ghost man. No, it's a ghost man pretending to be a dog. And a man with a dog's name. Yes. A man named Rex who barks at people with his voice, but is not a dog, is in fact a man. He's actually a ghost. And now it barks as a ghost.

As a man pretending to be a dog. And just happened to show up the same night that the friend put the Yorkie's corpse in the freezer. Had to pop him in there. Yeah, had to pop him in there. Bark, bark. Bark, bark. Because who else would? She's the only one there with these. Yorkie. Yorkie's not going to do it herself. And it's true. What does one have to do with the other? What do you mean? The freezer, the dead dog, and the bark bark.

To be honest, it's just one of those weird things. When you read these creepypastas, people just throw kind of random factoids in there. They do. And that's one of those where you're like, that's actually the creepiest part of this whole thing. Is that there's a dead dog in the freezer and she still thinks it's a man ghost. You went in there and you went like, oh no. Can you imagine? I could just see the Yorkie with the terrified frozen look on its face of death. You know, I get to see.

And then part of me wonders if she, did she end its life? Yeah, go back to the part where she talks about the dog dying because they really just scooted right over that. She just went, she was like, it was just like, it really was pretty much like an afterthought. Yeah. Maybe the freezer killed the dog. Well, that's that is more finish the job. That's called Moda.

Then while she was gone, I was taking care of an elderly Yorkie. Then while she was gone, her dog passed away. I called her, did what needed to be done, and put him in the freezer like she asked. Now, I feel like the term- Wow, that could be murder. I called and then the term I did what needed to be done is doing a lot of work here. Well, I think I did what needed to be done is more like I wrapped a dead dog in a bunch of plastic bags and put it in a freezer.

Like I handled a dead dog. Or is it because it maybe... It got caught in the automatic camera machine. Yeah. It's actually just lost its legs and organs have been shattered. Yeah. It didn't get the head. The head's still alive. Going, yep, yep, yep, yep, yep, yep, yep. Bark, bark. Yeah, she bark, bark, bark, bark. And then she had a... Beat it to the earth with her Birkenstocks? No, I think she, or she put it in a bag and suffocated it. This is a good way to end the show. It really is.

These people love it. They love the discussion. Oh, I'd never do that to you, Georgie. Georgie's here. Georgie came in to record today. Come here, girl. No, Georgie, we'd never put you out of your misery. elongate your life way past its natural. Did you see the stuff where they got the pills that can extend a dog's life? By how long? Do not tell Julie about these pills. It's pills that can extend a dog's life.

Apparently, though, it does sort of, the dog does live, but its brain is in the Event Horizon hell world. Yeah. But it's still alive. Okay. So you just have a lump of hairy flesh. Liberate tutti me. Where we are going, we do not need eyes to see. Daddy. Carmi. Sounds like something that comes out of the Necronaut.

Necronomicon. It's like a Necronomicon pill. Yeah, they're going to make it come to life. But no, it's going to elongate their lives. But I don't know what that means. I feel like a lot of people talk about this elongating your life process. But it's at what point is getting elongated? Right? Like, so do I just get to be a hundred years old longer? Yeah. Because that seems like that sucks dick. Or do I get to be 50 years?

old longer no that well where we're at right now is like you're trying to make like your 30s last in well into your 50s that's what you try to make your 50s last in your 70s that's what you I mean you better and then you make your 70s last in your 100s and then you make your 100s last to the fucking 200s and then we could finally eat bugs yeah you can eat bugs now

They're pretty gross. One day we won't even know that they're bugs. And here's hoping. Go to patreon.com slash last podcast and left to look at us. Now, we've ended this show. Yeah, we've ended the show. Yeah, if you wanted to see Georgie on camera, go to patreon.com slash last podcast. last podcast on the left to see video episodes. And while you're there for a very reasonable price, you can see last stream on the left every Tuesday at 6 p.m. PST, 9 p.m.

You get to see it raw and cut and live. And you get to interact with us. And we also have a lot of big, we have special programming coming up for the stream, which I'm really excited for. And just next week, we're coming back. back to series we're gonna do a bunch of we got a bunch of thick ass shit yeah

Now we're going to push out of the hole. And we released our schedule for the rest of the year. So go to lastpodcastonaleft.com and check out all the shows we got coming up. Of course, we're coming to Detroit. Eddie, give him a sample joke for tonight. Oh, Jesus. Come on. Give him a sample joke, Eddie. Don't do this to him. I did the same at the other show where we did it in Huntsville. I did that. And now for your closing joke, Ed Larson. Do you know what the hidden tragedy of 9-11 is?

What? Never forget used to belong to the elephants. This is what he did at the Huntsville show. Same reaction. No, Marcus left. Same reaction. I love it. I love it. But you're going to see more of that, but he's going to do a lot more specific material. Yeah, this comes out on.

Friday. Do you have any, if someone's listening to this on Friday, where can they see Panama city right now? I am in Panama city with Amber Nelson. She jumped on just for the Panama city tour. She was just there for spring break. I don't know why, but so she's.

doing the shows in Panama trying to get herself a young book and then Sunday in Tallahassee with Danny Bedrosian is almost sold out so make sure you check it out but more importantly last podcast on the left added a shit ton of shows and we're coming to you uh starting after we're going detroit toronto atlanta salt lake city charlotte durham st paul minnesota milwaukee oakland cleveland and portland for two nights go

to our website and check that out and get tickets. Could be a great year. Ryman was awesome, man. I had such a good time. That was our best show. It was incredible. It was. It was easily our best show. It was so much fun. Thanks everyone in Nashville who came out for that one to come see us.

It's an historic venue. It's always a pleasure to play the Ryman and to put our own little mark on it. We're going to put a big old mark on your fucking ass. You'll see the show. Hail Satan, pieces of shit. Yeah, fuck all of you. Hail Gein, I appreciate all of you very much. Fuck all you dirty fucking dogs. I think you're very nice. Whatever, dude. Whatever. Fucking whatever, dude. Go put it by yourself. Hail Florida.

I'll see you guys. It's my hail. It's my. No, it is. It is. Hail a man who made a belt out of nipples every week for 13 years. I can hail whoever the fuck. I want. If you read the egging chapter in the book, I explain it. Okay. All right. Good. I won't do that. Yes. Bye, fuckers. Bye.

Hey, I'm Paul Scheer. I'm June Diane Raphael. And I'm Jason Manzoukas. And we're the hosts of How Did This Get Made, a comedy podcast where we deconstruct, make fun of, and celebrate the best, worst movies ever made. Have you ever seen a movie that's so bad that it's actually good? That's what we're talking about.

from blockbuster franchises and made-for-TV romances to bonkers 80s action flicks and obscure sci-fi musicals we cover it all you can find how did this get made wherever you get your podcasts and don't forget to follow the show so you never miss it episode idiot this season let your shoes do the talking designer shoe warehouse is packed with fresh styles that speak to your whole vibe without saying a word

From cool sneakers that look good with everything, the easy sandals you'll want to wear on repeat, the SW has you covered. Find a shoe for every you from the brands you love, like Birkenstock, Nike, Adidas, New Balance, and more. Head to your DSW store or visit DSW.com today.