After begging us for weeks to let him back on the show, Rev Ivan Stang returns for his second TFTS appearance in as many years to fill the dank shoes of peas, who is absent this week on account of he was playing Chicken in the street again. Stang talks about yodeling ticks, his experience of being hired to kill Andre Agassi’s ball-boy, and the fact that his dog, Buddy, is safe and sound. After a comprehensive lesson on copyright law, scalpod and Dok Cosmac join the show and fight over which one of them gets to host this week’s round of “Is It a Band”. Stang invents a new drinking game called “Do a Shot Every Time I Throw a Handful of Pasketti at Fidd”. The game is played, causing impoverished children to cry out what little water their bodies still harbored over the waste of pasketti, which ends up being the funniest part of the show. Happy fuckin’ birthday.
http://media.blubrry.com/timefortheshow/p/hypercubelaboratory.com/podcasts/0110TFTS20180305.mp3 Podcast: Play in new window | Download Subscribe: Apple Podcasts | Android | Email | Google Podcasts | Stitcher | TuneIn | RSS | More The show returns to it’s normal Monday-night slot with the guys holding hands and singing songs. Special guest Riley Mix of Anti-Social Engineering joins the first hour, and tells […]
This week’s pennjillette is Cat Feather. Fidd can’t correctly tune his duduk, so he purposefuly sneezes on Faux’s ant farm in frustration. peas [sic] attempts to do good radio; he is immediately corrected and punished by Faux and Fidd. Co-solipsists, Dok Cosmac and Not-That-Bob Dapper, join the show in the second hour, but soon run home crying to their mommies and TELLING ON US! By the end of the show, Penitent Man is once again the only one who passes.
You are going to SHIT YOUR FACE IN HALF when you hear this episode! Ready to make the most exciting two-hour mistake of your life? If so, don’t miss a single syllable! In addition to answering viewer mail, turning blind eyes toward ISIS, and playing “Is It a Band”, Sean Connery calls in to talk about how to pay for whores with Bitcoin. It doesn’t take a psychic meteorologist to tell you why a basketball won’t fit in your ass, so why would you trust one to interpret the crop circles in your pubes?? YOU WOULDN’T!! That’s why we do what we do.