Episode 37: Kill The Unconscious & Miracle Proof

I howl like the wolf because I am in PAIN hi, as in Bring The Pain a la Method Man, but without the WU. I can give or take on that front, any which way is good for me with the voice and the schtick of Mr Man. Yes indeedy, I don’t think I be worrying about anything if I be watching him walking down the street, in heaven, hell, earth or limbo. Ho to the hum to the diddle dum, pleasure is all about that one. But PAIN - as in David Goggins making pain his friend and never finishing winning the war from within, unshackling his mind, hi, but I be done with the running, pain is in the pit of the stomach, connecting to the mind, everything a plateau, nothing changing for days and then low and behold, looky here, lying at my feet, the scavenged, stabbed half eaten, all the good parts you dig, of a colonizer circa 1845 Famine stricken Ireland, and yet in the head region, never ending trauma, like running in and out of the traumatic event, always coming back to the self, WHY HI? Like Florence Pugh in Thunderbolts but not in Lady Macbeth as that beeeaattttcccchhh ain’t got nothing and has nothing to lose, and indeed, takes it all. A whirlwind of appetite. That be me. But never fed. So, I’ll wallow on that for a century or so and then, PING, am back to my old self, here for the taking and the giving, as your rabid avenging angel, your very own Vigilante Cannibal Nun as Agony Aunt, speaking from her comedy horror podcast. And I am READY and willing to read the letters from my brood of listeners from across time and space who send me their tales of wretchedness, expecting me to salvage something from the detritus that they leave in the wake of their horrific nefarious deeds, to solve their emotional problems which have morphed into a Tsunami of rancid regret that will probably materialize into another hum dinger of a chronic act. So, BRING ON THE PAIN, YOU MO Fos, and I’ll see what I can salvage of the wreckage. Welcome to Episode 37: Kill The Unconscious & Miracle Proof.