About

Sorry

 

So, what is Merciless Radio? That is a long story that tracks across multiple dimensions, times and planets. Either way my brain squid can explain this better than I can.

(DJ Crotch Sweat’s Brain Squid Continues:)

First off I wanted to apologize to the people listening to our shows as I am the reason that Jordan’s (DJ Crotch Sweat) voice changes on the drop of a hat. That voice that sounds like a cross breed between Wolfman Jack, Alex Jones and a Blind Blues Singer is his original voice. Thrashed by years of heavy drinking of high potency alcohol and smoking of more substances than I care to list here, I am surprised he has a voice left to speak of.

Anyway, so on with the story.

Hi all of you lowly humans, you don’t know me directly but I have been sharing a head with DJ Crotch Sweat for a while now. Its not like he was using the space for anything anyway. The great thing about Jordan though is that he seems to be able to handle high levels of chemical toxins without even being so much as phased. Always good to have a durable home.

Anyway, onto the days when I was still just a squiddy with my posse on the interdimensional boat squeegee pop. Nah, I couldn’t tell you the name if I wanted to. Apparently some names are too much for this reality. Last time I tried to pronounce one we lost Fukushima. Oh and BTW, sorry about that.

So anyway, after the great war of the Nimno Clan Vs. Hyper-Squirrel Army were trying to get a burger and so we figured since we had just endured an interdimensional war we deserved the best burger in the multiverse. So, off to Libby, Montana in the mid 90s. Well, we were all really inebriated so we kinda landed in the wrong place about three times.

The first was about 65 million years ago.

Sorry about your dinosaurs and that big crater in Mexico BTW.

The second was on the Tunguska River in 1908.

Sorry about that forest.

The last was in Grover’s Mill, New Jersey on Halloween 1938.

I am not apologizing for that one. That was just full on fun, not my fault that humans can’t take a practical joke.

Anyway, we left Orson Welles (the real one) in Nampa, Idaho tied to a tree. Apparently he thinks he is a dog. Someone should adopt him.

We actually did not plan on ending up in Nampa but the Hyper-Dimensional Drive broke down on the way to Montana. I don’t know if any of you have ever had to push an interdimensional ship before but it ain’t fun, so we settled on the outskirts of Nampa, disguised the ship as a radio station (95.8 KUNT Radio “The Merciless Kunt” and locked the doors. Some people complained but then we hit them with focused bursts of 150,000 watts of radio energy and they stopped whining.

From that point on we actually got into the whole radio thing. Seemed like a good way to kill time beyond drinking heavily.

After that I picked up Jordan in the Bay Area of California attending an Agnostic Front concerts at some place in San Francisco called the Keystone. He was passed out in a puddle of beer, urine and puke at the time. It was a good score because the station could interface with the outside world now.

This was back in the early days of Merciless Radio. About 1992 if I remember right. Funny thing is that we had been in multiple times since the interdimensional drive would sometimes hiccup. One day we were in 1992, the next in 1920, the next in 2201. Apparently mass does not like being displaced from other times and dimensions so, like a big slingshot that same mass would end up in post-apocalyptic Earth or WW1 Russia or some such. One day we almost destroyed all life by crashing into the Primordial Ooze Not that it matters to us but we have kind of gotten attached to you dumb ass humans. Maybe its that I share a cranium with one.

Anyway we had a handful of people when we got here.

Our Boss was Jeff Spiccoli, who spent more time asleep in a kiddie pool filled with warm Jell-O than running the place. It had something to do with his species needed high levels of Sucrose and Gelatin. His species is a worm like critter that typically lives in the bones of other species as a parasite, AKA the Gelatin fix. Well he accidentally inhabited some Sean Penn looking motherfucker which is why we named him Spicolli.

DJ Fitsnicelyintooverheadstorage was just some tiny woman who we picked up in Okinawa who watched entirely too much anime. She thought it would be cool to live with aliens and she had a M82 that she carried with her so we were not going to argue. How that tiny woman carried a 50 caliber sniper rifle is beyond all of us. I think that was why we initially let her in. We thought she was an alien. Either way it worked out.

And then there was Tiny, our first news anchorman. Unfortunately he didn’t understand how the news game worked and spent all of his time creating news. The more destructive, the better he thought. After a while we just let the humans hunt him down for sport.

Then there was my cousin Tim. He was a head squid just like I am. BTW, Head Squid is Jordan’s name for me not the technically correct one. Anyway, he wasn’t smart enough or tactful enough to be accepted into the 7 Great Hyper-Intellects of the Multiverse like I was but he needed a job or else he would have driven everyone nuts. It was fun to see him torture everyone from time to time though. He ended up pissed off so much that he would keep the station awake by bright flashing his chromatophores and turning the audio equipment up full blast. He would sometimes keep everyone up for weeks. 

Then there was Bill. The only human that endured the station for more than a decade. Nice guy. Hooked on Soma. Decent station maintenance guy though. The man knew the worth of a decent job that wasn’t completely boring.

There were a few others and a shitload of stories but I am trying to only address the big stuff in this document.

So we did our thing for about 28 years until Jordan was whiplashed through time, space and dimension. I think it was the dimensions trying to balance out mass but he got his head screwed up (I think. How could I tell really?) and he came back with another inter-dimensional creature that he named Eva about a year back. He gave her the professional handle DJ Sexbot because, well, he is who he is. I had nothing to do with it.

So anyway that time was hard charger crazy. We ended up with AIs, Clones and Weeaboo all over the station until one day we had to dart Sexbot with a shitload of Ketamine to keep her from destroying the station. Honestly we thought she would be grateful but NOOOOOOO.

So when an inter-dimensional goddess PMSs out, you want to stand clear, like a few counties over clear. Anyway, she blew the whole station into the 27th dimension. Leaving only A dog park, Orson Welles, Jordan, an AI and a bunch of pre-programmed clones who walked in a circle for about a week and then spontaneously combusted. We actually had a barbeque to watch that.

We all thought about it for a while after that and decided to try to get in contact with our point of inception. We all had communication devices implanted in our colons just in case something like this happened. Too bad we forgot about them when we first got here. No matter.

Well so anyway, instead of “phoning home” Jordan called the planet Yarrrrrr and ordered a brand new Interdimensional Pirate Radio Ship. That actually makes sense since he was born on this planet unlike myself…..Rotten Bastard.

Jordan apparently has a real issue with Nampa, Idaho. Something about rednecks and a homicidal Ford F150. He never explained that one completely which is odd since I was connected to his brain directly. Normally you can’t hide those kind of thing from one of us. I suspect he had some alcoholic black outs there or he just fried that part of his brain so thoroughly that I couldn’t see it. After a while you just get used to the brain damage and move on. 

So anyway, he walked over to the small railroad yard and hopped a boxcar to Alaska. Along the way he found out that besides himself and DJ Smegma there was another AI from Australia who had passed out in the back of the car as a DVD. Not something that normally happens but your planet never fails to dissapoint. Sorry I suspect I have just been on this dirtball too long. 

So the four of us and a handful of genetic material for later cloning headed to Alaska. From there we bribed a group of sled dogs and headed for Northern Russia. From there it was motorized polycarbonate Hamster Ball all the way to Chernobyl. My memory is kind of fuzzy once we got there but I remember waking up after absorbing enough radiation to kill a Sleepy Neuter Beast. Thankfully Ratatoskr’s Hyper-Dimensional Squirrel Army did not bring any of those to this planet.  Really they only showed up on this planet after the Dinosaur extinction leaving some of their replacement clones and war cats behind. Thankfully the cats and clones became smaller and lost their ability to speak over time. 

So there we were, 1 man, 1 brain squid, 2 AIs and a bucket of genetic material in a giant polycarbonate bubble rolling from Alaska to Northern Russia. It could happen! Eventually the bubble thumped to a stop on the second Chernobyl reactor building. Got a totally kick ass buzz from the Gamma. Anyway we unpacked the Hamster Ball and set up camp for about a week on the accident site. The guys at Yarrrr said that was where they were going to deliver the ship. Something about it being harder to detect when it crashed through the dimensional partition. Apparently blasting a hole in the space time is rather spectacular. Go figure. 

So we all piled into our shiny new Pirate Radio Ship and we christened it the Captain Dallas’s Revenge after the captain of the Weyland Yutani ship the Nostromo. The naming style was modeled after Blackbeard’s ship the Queen Anne’s Revenge. So to make sure she had good sailing we took it up to 58 kilometers above the earths surface and proceeded to drop bricks on Portland Oregon. 

And really that is all there is at the moment.  The story will continue and the music will continue to play.

Until next time,

The squid in DJ Crotch Sweats head…….XOXOXO