Brian was an unassuming guy, a librarian by trade with a love for the quiet. His days were filled with the soft rustling of pages and the gentle hum of fluorescent lights. But tonight was different. He had always been fascinated by the supernatural, so when his friend handed him an old vinyl record claiming it was cursed, Brian couldn’t resist. “It’s a rare Tony Bennett album,” his friend had said with a mischievous grin. “But play it after midnight, and you’ll summon something… unusual.” Brian shrugged it off as a joke, but his curiosity got the better of him. That night, just past midnight, he placed the record on his turntable and set the needle down.

As the needle crackled to life, the smooth, familiar voice of Tony Bennett filled the room. But something was off. The tempo slowed, the pitch dropped, and soon the crooning turned into a haunting moan. Brian’s heart raced as a thick fog rolled into the room, seemingly out of nowhere. Before he could react, the fog condensed into a figure—an old man in a suit, but with decaying skin and lifeless eyes. It was Zombie Tony Bennett. Despite his ghastly appearance, the zombie was still impeccably dressed, crooning in a deep, gravelly voice that sent chills down Brian’s spine. “I left my heart in San Francisco…” Zombie Tony sang, but the lyrics were distorted, twisted with the voices of the damned.

Brian was frozen with terror, but as Zombie Tony continued to sing, he noticed something strange. The creature wasn’t malevolent, just… lost. With every note, it seemed more sorrowful than terrifying. Brian gathered his courage and approached the specter. He spoke softly, telling the zombie how much he loved his music, how it had touched the lives of so many. To Brian’s amazement, Zombie Tony’s eyes softened, and the fog began to lift. The room brightened as the song ended, and the zombie’s decaying form began to fade. With a final, melancholic note, Zombie Tony Bennett vanished, leaving Brian standing alone in the silence of his living room, his heart pounding, yet oddly at peace.

TAI and Beer Engine Bod together? Why again?

We discuss TAICON events (sort of), alt right beer, and a game that was taylor made for BMo…So how did he fuck it up?

Is a fitting title for a president who sometimes seems to mistake the Oval Office for a cozy nap corner. With his frequent verbal slip-ups and moments of confusion, it’s like he’s navigating his presidency in a perpetual state of groggy bewilderment. Biden’s speeches often feel like a game of political Mad Libs, leaving listeners scratching their heads and wondering if he’s still sleep-talking. Whether he’s mixing up countries, misplacing his thoughts mid-sentence, or reminiscing about stories that may or may not have happened, Biden’s dream-like state adds a quirky, almost surreal twist to the highest office in the land.

Today's show delves into how Canada gets it right, how Mencia is responsible for Rogan and only seasoned pros bet the All Star game. It's a man's world!

Spoon’s life is never dull. We dicuss adult diapers, secret siblings and fucking married women. Plus the hottest new sitcom of the fall season.

It's BMo solo, and he's discussing the finer points of podcast audio, taicon dates and Soul Asylum. Plus raising a serial killer and when real estate gets sexy.

Fobes is sick and just finished cleaning up shit. This should go well.

Topics include a boring breakdown of the Las Vegas real estate situation, Tony is booked for America and remembering Troy's fetishes.

What do you mean summer camp is closed!?

We rehash Indy Steve's crazy story, the truth behind Drop Bears and the downtown debate rages on. Plus these kids today don't even know what boredom is! I'll show you a common brown snake…