• Escape From Clowntown Podcast

  • De: E.R. Flynn
  • Podcast

Escape From Clowntown Podcast

De: E.R. Flynn
  • Resumen

  • Comics, cartoons, humor, podcast and mostly-true tales of comedy from cartoonist and satirist, E.R. Flynn. My comics and humor are heavily influenced by the kind of twisted humor found in MAD, Cracked and National Lampoon magazines. If you’re a fan of sarcastic, ironic, sardonic, and sometimes adult humor, you’ll hopefully enjoy my creations. My work as been published by The American Bystander, The Nib, The Village Voice, The New York Press, and Dark Horse Publications. You can also find my work in various online sites such as LOL Comedy and Two Fifty One. Look for my published books on Amazon and Goodreads.

    www.erflynncomics.com
    E.R. Flynn
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Episodios
  • Halloween 2023 Special
    Oct 20 2023
    When it comes to horror and comedy I’ll admit my tastes can get pretty corny, and when Halloween rolls around they get extra CANDY corny.On that note, here’s two audio goodies to pop into your plastic pumpkin treat collector.The first segment of this podcast is all in good fun—and hopefully doesn’t land me in court. As for the second segment, I had to assure my wife, the hobby gardener, that I wrote this piece almost a dozen years ago and it has nothing to do with her. However I did notice that lately she’s been spending a lot of time sharpening her garden tools. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.Please enjoy the show.The Transcript (For those who want to read along or can’t understand my ridiculous accents.)The Zombie DR. Wuth ShowSOUND: RADIO DIAL TURNING THEN MUSIC ANNOUNCER: It’s that time once again for the Zombie Dr. Wuth Show! Sex and Relationship advice for Monsters and their loved ones. Now here she is, fresh from the morgue, Zombie Dr. Wuth!SOUND: APPLAUSEZOMBIE DR. WUTH: Velkommen Everybloody! I’m Dr. Wuth, your undead devotee to sex and relationships! I’m here with my new assistant Ted who will be helping me to take your calls.RIGHT, Let’s get into it tonight, shall we?Hello Caller, Voo are on der Air! How can Zomibie Dr. Wuth help you?CALLER: (heavy Breathing. Sound of Wolf howl.)ZDR: (Sound of disconnect) ACK! I always get der heavy breathers! It must be my ghoul looks! Next Caller!ASSISTANT TED: Doc It looks like we have a man named “Vlad” on the line 2 for you.CALLER (Vlad): Helloooo Doctor. ZDW: Tell me, Vat’s yer problem?CALLER (Vlad): I’m having a problem vid my brides.ZDW: BRIDES? JUST HOW MANY BRIDES YOU GOT?VLAD: Usually 3 to 5, but it really depends on da century. But I’m thinking I might just stick to being a bachelor. Da women today are just too demanding. Blah! My last couple of break ups with have sucked me dry! Folks may call me a blood sucker but none of dem have met my wives’ lawyers! Oo boy! BLAH!Thankfully when you’ve lived as long as I have you learn how to bury your valuables in more than one grave, if you know what I mean. HA! HA! HA! But honestly, all I vant is to catch a quick bite with a nice girl and have her not be a crypt-digger!I tell ya, It’s driving me batty!ZDW: Vlad it sounds like the next time you’re looking at a pretty neck, perhaps ask the lady for a pen and get her to sign a “Pre-nip Pre-Nup!” NEXT CALLER!ASSISTANT TED: We’ve got Ann on the line 3 and she’s got question about height differences effecting relationships.ZDW: Go ahead, Ann. Tell me your problem. CALLER (Ann): (Woman with Brooklyn accent) Hello Doc. Do you think a big height difference can be detrimental to a healthy relationship?ZDW: It depends. How much of a height difference are we talking about?CALLER (Ann):CALLER (Ann): A couple hundred feet.ZDW: Ah.. I see. Go on… CALLER (Ann): Well, I wouldn’t mind this big hunk so much since he’s got a nice head of hair, and a body to match, but sometime his jealousy can be too much! ZDW: Really?CALLER (Ann): Whenever he sees me even looking in the direction of a man, he goes storming off. Next thing you know, we have to hash things out, like every weekend from the top of the Empire State Building!He says it’s the only place where he can gather his thoughts and quietly discuss his problems. Which is kind of a lie when you consider he spends the whole time swatting at planes!ZDW: Ahhh, it sounds like vat you have is the classic Aggressive/ Accommodating Struggle in a relationship. He gets aggressive, and you accommodate his rages. Dis is a form of emotional abuse the two of your share. You should end things immediately him! —Just be sure to do this somewhere in New Jersey since I have a nice condo in the building next to the Empire State Building! NEXT CALLER!CALLER: (heavy Breathing. Sound of Godzilla.)ZDR: (Sound of disconnect) ACK! I don’t have patience from you Wisehiemers! NEXT CALLER! WHO’S ON THE LINE TED?ASSISTANT TED: We’ve got Jerome on the line 4.ZDW: Hello Jerome, Tell me, vat’s yer problem?CALLER (Jerome): Hi Zombie DR. Wuth. I’m hoping you can help me with my husband. He’s constantly booking surgeries with our Doctor…Doctor Victor Frankenstein. He’s a wonderful surgeon. He’s practically a miracle worker! Anyhow, my hubby is always at his lab, getting a nip here, a tuck there, a new limb, eyeball, whatever. But no matter what he has done, hubby immediately regrets his decision and goes rampaging through the west village and disrupting the nearest drag performance. It has the local queens so upset they’re threatening to burn down our brownstone! What should I do Dr. Wuth?ZDW: Ohhhh. Dat is drastic! A real conundrum. Lemme me chew this over with my assistant and pick his brain a bit. CALLER (Jerome): Oh thank you, Dr. Wuth.ZDW: Teeed?ASSISTANT TED: (intercom): Yes Dr. Ruth?ZDW: Will you come in here?(door open sounds) TED: Yes?ZDW: Come a little closer Ted.Ted: ...
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    10 m
  • Problems, Solutions, and the Cost of Both
    Aug 29 2023
    This Podcast is a part of a related post on Substack. Click here to read that. An astrophysicist, a politician, and a priest were taking a walk in a park while they discussed the finer points of cosmology, science budgets, and the religious implications of space travel.Just as they were about to exit the park, a flying saucer dropped out of the sky and landed right in front of them.The three stopped in their tracks at this sight. As they stood there, wide-eyed and in shock, a hatch opened on the spaceship. From it exited a small green alien dressed in a nicely tailored business suit. The alien walked toward them. The three noticed that the alien was carrying what looked to be a book.“Greetings, Earthlings!” The alien spoke in perfect English. Although if truth be told, to the trained ear it spoke with a slight Brooklyn accent.“I am a representative from the Intergalactic Fidelity Publishing Company here to offer you ‘Intergalactic Truths and Solutions.’ Within the pages of this book are answers to the universe, as well as solutions to your world’s problems. These fine leather bound and gilded books are made available to you so that you may achieve a more harmonious and perfect world.”“Will it solve Global Climate Change?” inquired the astrophysicist.“Yes! Volume. 2, Page 237.” the alien replied.“World Hunger?” asked the priest.“Volume 3, page 45.”“Wars and Political Strife?” asked the politician.“Indeed! Volumes 6-7, pages 78, 156 and 459.”The astrophysicist rubbed his chin in thought and, “When you mention ‘volumes,’ I see that the book you’re currently holding reads that it’s only Volume 1. Where’s the other volumes?”The alien’s face lit up with a smile as he spoke “Ah, how observant of you! Yes, for only a small monthly subscription we will send you a new volume each month. ”The politician was the first to grasp the situation and blurted out “Subscription? Wait a minute—”But he was interrupted by the astrophysicist, “—You’re an extraterrestrial encyclopedia salesman!”“It’s a living. Think of me as more of a ‘messiah’ offering you a better world. Seriously, think about how much the children of your world need this book. You’ll barely notice the cost of the subscription fee compared to the benefits.” the alien offered in his best honest sales appeal.The politician was getting visible perturbed, “Who knew our first off-world emissary would arrive with a sales pitch!” He then became demanding, “Please, no more beating around the bush. What’s the cost for these books?”“The Intergalactic Fidelity Publishing Company only requires that you to send us five priests every month in exchange for each volume.”“Errr…What do you do with these men of religion?” The priest asked with more than a hint of ambivalence.The alien moved a little closer to the priest and replied, “We eat their brains! Blind faith makes for the sweetest tasting brains in the universe!” He then showed the priest a toothy, saliva dripping smile.“WHAT! THAT’S UNACCEPTABLE!” Screamed the priest.The alien tried to assuage the priest’s dismay. “Don’t worry. We do this in the most humane way possible. While each subject is sedated, we gently scoop out their brain and replace it with a highly evolved, symbiotic flan. Afterwards, we return these individuals back into their natural setting. Honestly, friends and loved ones hardly notice any difference!”“THAT’S NOT HELPING TO CONVINCE ME!” The priest shrieked hysterically.The politician turned to the priest, grabbed his arms and shook him. “Now just calm down. Is it really that bad of a trade? We send them a few of our more nutty fundamentalists and in exchange we get a paradise on Earth.”“Seems like a very reasonable contract to me.” the astrophysicist chimed. He then spoke to the alien, “May I have a closer look at that Volume 1 you’re holding?”As the alien handed over the book to the astrophysicist, the priest turned to the alien and asked, “Can it be any priests, or preachers, from any religion or denomination? I mean…ugh…I guess we could start with some Episcopalians…”The alien hissed, “Mmmmm, Delicious!”The priest started mumbling to himself and walking in circles as he considered further denominations for the exchange.Suddenly two shots rang out!The priest and the politician both dropped dead to the ground. The alien turned to the astrophysicist who was holding a gun on him.The astrophysicist scowled, “No sale, my green-skinned book hustler! According to Volume 1, page 1, line 1:‘The secret to solving a world’s problems is to first get rid of all priests and politicians!’We astrophysicists have been saying this for years! Once that’s done, we’re smart enough to figure out the rest! Earth doesn’t need your books! BE ON YOUR WAY!”The alien, upset that he failed on the sale, shrugged his shoulders, took back his book, and turned ...
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    7 m
  • A Small Update
    Jul 7 2023
    Let me apologize for the delay in posting comics. The July 4th Holiday and then a bit of home construction pushed back my schedule a bit.Once you hear a more detail description of what I’ve been up to, I’m sure you’ll understand that certain events were out of my control, or more accurately, slipped out of my control.A Small UpdateMy wife calls me a “small man with small measurements.” This wonderful little nickname arose about twenty years ago during our drives we’d take in upstate New York. On each weekend we’d pick a different destination and take a shot as to how to get there. Since I didn’t own a GPS unit and smart phones weren’t invented yet, all I had to rely on was a well-worn Rand McNally map tucked inside the glove compartment.Invariably though, during every one of these drives, my wife would require a bathroom stop, exactly when we were in the middle of nowhere.I would try to ease her bathroom urgency by telling her that a rest stop was just a mile or so down the road. It took her a few years to realize that I was speaking in terms of “a country mile,” which anyone who grew up in a rural setting knows that this means a distance ranging from 1 to 50 miles.I guess it was about the 30th time that I used this ploy when Deb lost all patience with me.“JESUS CHRIST! YOU DON’T KNOW WHERE THE NEXT GAS STATION OR REST STOP IS, DO YOU?” She screamed at me.I calmy replied, “What? Like I said it’s just a mile or so up the road. We’re practically there! Look at the map in the glove box!”I knew Deb, the perpetual New York City urbanite, couldn’t read a road map to save her life. This always bought me a few miles before she went nuclear on me. However this time, I guess the launch codes were plugged in and the piss missile was about to exit the silo.She yelled, “GOD DAMMIT, FLYNN! YOU’RE A LIAR! YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE? YOU’RE A…YOU’RE A… YOU’RE A SMALL MAN WITH SMALL MEASUREMENTS!FIND ME A BATHROON NOW!”With a command like that, a person becomes extra motivated to go full speed to the next available toilet.Fast forward to today. I may have waited some twenty odd years to prove her wrong about my measly measuring abilities, but alas, I did!I waited until we owned our first home together to prove to her that my dimensional estimating abilities were above par. This fixer-upper we owned was purchased, partly because that’s all we could afford, and partly because I saw it as an opportunity to show my measuring prowess.This was due to the fact that so many things needed repairs: Floors, Windows, Closets, Toilets, Walls, Ceilings and the Doors. To make matters worse, not a square angle or standard measure can be found anywhere in this hobby built hovel. From what I could tell the home was built in the 1940’s by a man who was crosseyed and only measured in cubits.Despite all those negatives, this place was a perfect testing ground for me to dispel my wife’s opinion of my survey abilities. Oh, I made a big show out of every project. Huffing and broadcasting my every move with a variety of tape measures, rulers, straight edges, snap lines, angles, and even a map compass if I needed it! Loud exclamations of my exactitude in analyzing the distances between points A and points B were made with every cut. I wielded a tape measure like a samurai sword. I was the shogun of Measuredom.Then finally my coup de Grace came when we decided to replace the back doors on this house. They were moldy, old French doors that barely functioned. Every year required some kind of maintenance to keep out old man winter. Squirts of Caulk around the cracks. Weather stripping over weather stripping. The doors where looking more like the gates of Hell than anything even remotely designed by the French. Finally a few months ago my wife lost patience with this abomination and decided to order a new door. She wanted to also pay for the door’s install, but I convinced her that was wasted money. Since I had installed all the windows surely a door install was well within my capabilities.And so the first thing before we ordered the door, I set about to measure the space for the new door.As I went into the garage to get my trusty tape measure, I thought to myself that this project would once and for all truly would prove to her my measurement mastery!I calculated out all the sizes need to replace these doors: The inner casing width and height, The outer molding width and height, and the overall depth of the door.I wrote it all down, along with a diagram, on a 3”x 5” piece of paper, as if it was the tiniest of treasure maps. Once that was done, off we went to the local big box hardware store.We approached a sales associate in the door department, who was a gentleman named Bob. Bob was in was in his early 70s, and had all the friendly attitude of an old west bartender who’d just been insulted about the quality of his whiskey.When I handed him my 3” x5” card, Bob had expressed, that ...
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    10 m

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