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Armistice day.


    “I think every woman has something they’d like to change about themselves. Ideally, I’d like my mouth to be able to hinge backwards, like when you open up a stapler, and then all my teeth would be in a line like little staples.” -Scarlett Johanssen, in Clickhole

Here’s the recording of last night’s (2018-11-09) KNYO and KMEC Memo of the Air: Good Night Radio show ready to enjoy. (Left-click for instant-play. Right-click to download.) And thanks to Hank Sims of Lost Coast Outpost here’s a page with the latest show and also other ones going back about a couple of years. And you can go to Links To Recorded Audio, see above, and dally among remnants of the even more remote past.

Future: Don’t forget about this coming Wednesday, 7pm, the live-with-studio-audience broadcast on 107.7fm KNYO-LP Fort Bragg of /Destry Rides Again/ from Mendocino Theater Company’s Helen Schoeni Theater in the middle of the Art Center in Mendocino. Be there or listen on the radio or via (/there/ is best; the roar of the greasepaint, the smell of the crowd, the clop of horses’ hooves, the honkytonk barroom ambiance, the crackling of antique theater lighting instruments on the exciting edge of catastrophic failure).

Besides all that, here are links to a few maybe not radio-useful but worthwhile educational items that I set aside for you while gathering last night’s show together, found mostly thanks to the fine websites listed to your right:

They stoled the dang Double-D payroll and kidnapped Uncle Bill!

The Gashlycrumb Tinies was one of the first Edward Gorey bits I ever saw. Here’s the GhastlyGun Tinies.

Queens of things to eat.

Ze Frank on dragonflies and damselflies. “This hardcore little bastard.” Circle of life. Circle of life.

I love this wonderful girl’s Cooking with Tourette’s show.

Haircut day.

Speaking of whippets, if you’re inflated, you don’t fuck with whippets. They will pop you like a feckin’ balloon, friend.

I have a little antique stuffed plush baby dinosaur I got from the thrift store for like 50 cents a couple of years ago. It took a year and a half to run the batteries down that came in it, and I replaced them with two cheap AA batteries. You touch its tongue and it nods and chews and waves its little arms and makes a happy eating sound, and you touch its tongue again and it does much the same but makes another sound. Five sounds, total. It is so cute; I keep it by the door and touch its tongue when I go out or come in. Now: here’s the 2018 version of that toy on steroids and roller skates. I don’t want it, don’t buy it for my birthday on Monday, I mean that, but the ad is very nicely produced, and budding salesmuffins might learn a great deal from the presentation.

Le minotaure gigantesque: un aperçu.

Jupiter closeup.

Marshmallows, how we get them. Dramatic marshmallow-making music.

All the best dance scenes, ranked.


Benny Hill, angel of death, monarch of the kingdom of the dead! Angel of daaaaaath!

Video camera on back of bird. Click the sound on. A more leisurely tour than the last raptorcam project; no diving on prey or slaloming between trees or anything like that.

Live stream from camera on train in Norway. With sound. It might be night there and day where you are. It might be stopped at a stopping place. But it’s probably rolling. Go see.

Oops. Oh, well. Still billing for all this, though. Clear out, people, I’ll mop up.

How infection works.

“The following week at a Police Merit Commission meeting, chairman James Rieckhoff asked Windbigler if anyone had been injured during the incident in question, to which the chief replied: ‘No.'”

Rubber bands and marbles. Even better than the one with the magnets and feathers.

Strong hair.

And look at how big and beefy and angry and stupid all these football fathers are. I like it how the blonde woman gets in the middle of everybody and is all like, /The fuck is the matter with you! Settle down!/ That must be the Wise Virginia they’re talking about, that one.

Postcards for ants, by Lorraine Loots.

Wonderful world of chemistry. (41 min.)

Another Smooth Criminal. This one on uke, in the back seat.

Charles Tyler’s BandCamp page. (Charles Tyler of the Mendo Community School band Dada from the early 1980s.)

Thar she be, cap’n. Cupcake Island.,c_limit/Litla-Dimun-GettyImages-154202591.jpg

What is this non since? Do lil seizures clothes at ate? Looks can be this evening boy I tell ya. Anyway better careful he could have ray bees.


All the rockets side by side. I remember Travis T. Hipp saying, “Rockets to the moon are just modified campfire technology, man.”

All the novelty radios. The Flintstones radio rock, the Tony the Tiger radio, banana split radio, and so on.

How to get men. “Accidentally have your purse fly open, scattering its contents all over the street.”

“Don’t take your pill today. I heard something is in the works.”

And you can panic or you can use your brains. See? Panic. Use your brains. Panic. Use your brains.



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