WAR! and other card games
Cameron Diaz Likes it ROUGH
What’s On TV
Call from The Perpetrator re: Wizarding World of Harry Potter
Ridin’ Rides
Bitch Parity
Mexican Mole Men
Poutine + Nachos
$moke$
Tony Hayward Sings!
Ultimate Teachers Lounge
Tah-Cose

PETA = Media Whores
Happy Birthday, Jamie, KFed, Rosie, Twitter
Gary Oldman
Brass Knucks vs Boot Knife
Help John Grow Balls dot Com
Hug Ban
Church Sex

Local City Soundtrack
The Larry Sanders Show
Rip Torn Drunk & Disorderly
Haitian Baby Theft
Slavery Today
Nazi Hunters
Topless Dilemma
Transformer Blackface
Popcorn
Time Sex Travel
Toyota
American Idol

In this hour, the guys wrapped themselves around penis voices, man dates, and condoms. They also did the man segment. I’m just going to leave that there.

So condoms, do them?

Before I had sex for the first time, I had a great knowledge of sex. I learned at the age of 5 what sex was (and that you had it when you got married). But I never really learned much about condoms. I had health class, the coach squeemishly told us about sex and condoms and babies and maybe some STDs but at the time I was waiting until I got married so whatever.

Then, in college, I decided to screw that idea. Literally? We had a nurse from the UF infirmary come into our class and give us a lecture on safe sex. It was funny, informational, and I listened. For that first time I had condoms, foam, and probably some other thing. I grew but I always insisted on condoms. The first time I had sex without a condom was with my husband, Geoff. He has a way with getting his way. I told him “no sex without a condom” and he said “I don’t have any but I’m clean” and I said, “OK”.

Point being, I still think condoms are important. I still think you should wear them unless you are trying to get pregnant or KNOW that your partner is safe. Geoff may not agree. What will we tell Rowan? What’s worse an STD or an unwanted pregnancy?

So yeah, it may sound from the topic list that this was a very con episode but believe me, it was quite enjoyable. I’m sure you will agree.

I eat too much junk food.
I drink too much.
I smoke too much.
I have too much sex. What? Shut up.

I get winded making the bed.
I have to take frequent rest breaks while riding an escalator.
When using a ladder to hang Christmas decorations, I have to establish a “base camp” on the second rung.

What I’m saying is: it came as no surprise to me that I almost died from the killer “Captain Micks” flu virus that Mickey gave to us all.

What DID surprise me was how quickly, and completely, the disease disabled me, and how long it lasted.

I’m recovered now, and I really appreciated all of your “Get Well Soon”, “We miss you”, “OMG it turns out that you really ARE the source of the SomaCow funny, get your ass back there!” emails, but I thought I would give you a private glimpse into my two weeks of suffering, in hopes that it might at least garner me some sympathy b00bie pics.

A Day on my Deathbed

11:00am – Wake up. Open left eye. Rest briefly. Open right eye.
11:15am – Ask someone to please wring out my pillowcase and replace it with one that is neither dripping nor off-green.
12:00pm – Wish that I could remember what food tastes like.
12:30pm – Take the ninth and tenth Nyquil ComaCaps of the day.
2:00pm – Wake up lying on the cold bathroom tile, wondering whether I was headed there to pee, barf or re-apply my hair gel.
3:00pm – Wish that I could remember what cigarettes taste like,
4:30pm – Insert a ShamWow into each nostril. Try to sleep on my back.
6:00pm – Enjoy a hearty dinner of Afrin Nasal Spray and Cherry Hall’s.
7:00pm – Watch “Friends”. Hey, I’m not DEAD.
7:30pm – Wish that I could remember what sex tastes like.
8:00pm – Collapse into a restless slumber for the night, with fevered dreams of Jennifer Aniston rubbing Vick’s Vap-o-Rub on my pompadour, which causes sparks to shoot out and collect into a rectangle that begins to burn my head.
8:15 – Wake up long enough to realize that what is actually happening is that the heating pad has ignited my hair gel.
8:16 – Decide that putting out the fire can wait until tomorrow.
zzz…ZZZ…zzz…ZZZ…

I wouldn’t wish this miserable virus on anyone. Please, please, please, dear listeners, get your flu shots.

And never, never, never purchase butane hairstyling products.

Hi everyone! It’s me, Jen. I’m filling in for Geoff while he nurses the baby, er, I mean, sleeps…

Do you miss me? You know, you can always come chat with me while I listen to SomaCow on Ustream, and also of course for Say… Anything. I know I miss my notetaking! I am going to do my best to let you know about this hour using Ross’s cryptic notes.

From the first three lines I can surmise that John Edwards had sex, Bernie Mac died, and the boys have a death wish on another comedian??

Then it says Budweiser is greater than divided by 3. Now I love math, but this formula has had me scratching my head so much the dogs are bringing me the Advantage! This led into “beer talk”. I do remember this from the live show…Kostritzer is teh yummy…

The next line says either WW IIII or WW VII but I think those are both wrong? No clue.

But opposite of war is peace, like the Olympics! The opener was supposed to be grand, and the guys want Bob Costas to get ‘STUF’fed? Do they think he’s too skinny?

Mickey peed in the Navy. OK, I really don’t understand how this is noteworthy! Unless he literally peed IN the Navy…but what does that even mean?

And the last note on the page is that Mickey was stranded at Burger King without paper. I guess Mickey likes taking notes, too?

Well, I know that reading these notes and trying to give them back to you, dear Heard, does not do the hour justice because when listening live from 1-2 PM Eastern last Saturday, it flew by and was quite entertaining. So take a listen, and maybe you can help me decipher these notes. We’ll call it a SomaCow mystery.

What wasn’t a mystery was the music this week!

• They Might Be Giants – Istanbul, not Constantinople

Fah who for-aze, Dan yelsza hor aye!

In this J-free hour of SomaCow, Mickey and I entertain ourselves discussing Easter, and religion, and the creepiness of my neighbors, who constantly stare at my pale, quivering nakedness. I, as a man, a man’s man, a guy, a dude, contend that if I own 6 feet of privacy fencing that forms a perimeter around my property, I should be allowed to take my morning coffee and smoke with all my jumblies left out for the world to see. Somehow, the old couple that live catty-corner (I hate that term) to me seem to pick those EXACT naked moments to stand at their sliding glass door and stare at my junk. It’s creepy, and no matter how much I try to wiggle it at them, they simply will not go away and leave me in peace. Am I in the wrong? Where ELSE can a man be naked but in his own yard? More so, I only have a few precious weeks left of “naked time” in general, before the arrival of my daughter. I need every minute of sun-soaked johnson time I can get!

Anyway, we spent some time on the Holiday, which I hope you all enjoyed, and we invited the girls of Say Anything in for a few shows. We thank them for helping us make radio history, as we devoted an entire segment to eating Cadbury Creme Eggs, a true Easter tradition as far as I am concerned. Have you people tried the new varieties? The Reese’s product is obviously superior, but I will entertain other submissions, should you feel the need.

We have some new stickers in, and will most probably be getting coozie and faubs soon as well. If you would like any of that stuff, just send a SASE to:

SomaCow Media, Inc.

PO Box 162224

Altamonte Springs, FL 32716-2224

And throw in a buck or two to defray costs if you want a coozie. Coozy? How the hell DO you spell that?

We brought up an interesting point: the relationship between business persons and religion, and how it is easier for some folks to search within their own pew for like-minds to engage for their financial dealings. It’s creepy to me to consider a guy picking a plumber based on that guys willingness to believe certain aspects of a dogma, but to each their own. I just think it’s tacky to put an actual Jesus Fish/scripture ON YOUR LOGO. Weirdos. Whatever the business owner thinks is coming across, all I am hearing is, “I am using God to make a buck”. Sinner.

And we talked about the girls, and how proud our network is of the longest running show we’ve ever worked with. You guys really need to try out Say Anything. Chicks talking about Life, Love, and Sex. It’s a lot of what’s right in podcasting, and we love what they do. And not just cause they would hit us if we said otherwise. I am serious. After Debe left the studio, I found a straw wrapper formed into a noose. That girl is scary.

Not scary? The following great bands that we featured in this hour!

• Hot One – Get Your Priest On
• No More Kings – God Breathed
• Flogging Molly – Us of Lesser Gods

We fired up some new intros, and the Hopper rejected them. After a quack recovery, Mickey informed us that this week has just been an all around bad time for him on the technological front. It seems he destroyed his laptop, mouse, desk, and much of the east bedroom at his house. Dude really is Powder… So nice and sweet, and then he gets into a rage and metal starts flying.

We discuss my inherent need to be on the internet, possibly to now include the installation of a swivel arm mounted computer in my bathroom. It just kills me to know that I could be playing scrabulous or posting some snarky reply to a podcasting forum, if only I didn’t take such lengthy trips to the can. It’s a family tradition, it would seem, because I remember many a night I would sit in the living room and stare at the hallway to the bathroom, wondering when dad would emerge again from his epic shits. Dude had a TV, the hotline to the radio station, a telephone, a CB hookup, 2,000 playboys, and several transistor radios, all around an avocado throne.

We bore down on a topic near and dear to my wallet, namely, the Long Distance Relationship. Mickey regales us with a tale from his youthful days, when he was a child and she was a child in a kingdom named Big P. Sad, truly. I told of my ill-fated relationship with a Polack in Mamaroneck (Sorry again about all that!), and J informed us that he was born married to his wife.

What’s the biggest bill you ever ran up talking to the opposite sex? 900 numbers included, you dirty, dirty people.

Hey, while we have a moment…. Did you know that SCM is giving away a free iTouch? S’true. Click the test at SomaCow.com and get into the running now!

So, we at SomaCow frequently make it our goal to explore the mysterious of mankind, and better understand what it means to be a man. Today’s topic of interest – Goatees and Van Dykes. WTF is the deal with this ubiquitous facial fur? Bald guys, hairy guys, emo boys, punk rockers…. I cannot throw a rock without hitting six dudes that have a big satan beard all over their chin. Is this the pinnacle of our beardery? I hope not. I look to my good friend and trendsetter Elross for all my bearding advice.
Don’t forget to check out Mickey’s Life Coaching at the :40 – Topic this week: Sprinkle some happiness!

Is it okay for a guy to hug a guy? How do you hug?

We gay right the hell out of this episode with a brief history of the love that dares to squeeze the charmin.

We beared up on the following great artists in this episode:

• Oppenheimer – This Is Not a Test
• Punchline – Flashlight
• Jeff Howell – A Pretty Little Thing Put a Hurtin’ on Me

I, for one, was sick and tired of all the “k” and “h” and “sham” sounds of our previous enemies, and it’s sort of hard to hate on a man whose name you cannot pronounce. Makmood Nohabanagosh? Naradranat MujiberSarajewel? Give me a Hugo, ANY day. Fat pompous prick has decided to preempt a war on us for the seventeenth time, so much so that the liberal in me died today. This guy has become the school yard douche that keeps backing away from you while saying, “Let’s Go! Hit me, come on, pussy!”

It gets me so angry, especially when you consider boobs. The breasts that we were mammories, the teats of bosom chestsicle headlight can cans. Bewbs.

So, yeah, go listen to the Old Media if you want to hear about some jerk destroying term limits and annihilating freedom and spreading lies… Our course is clear on SomaCow, as we put our best effort into the war on people that war on boobs, namely, brassiere makers, and their continued ignorance of the asymmetrically endowed. Besides, all real men know that laying down with a chick with one A cup and one C cup is like an instant cup of menage trois. SomaCow knows that some people hate disproportionate boobs, but our commitment is strong. Make no mistake. We are For The Boobies™.

We also discussed J’s fascinating desire for a sex swing that can “bear the load”, iykwim, and Mickey’s horrific experiences in a Taiwanese Church (He thinks it was a church, but they had a weird way of dispensing the body of Christ. Ping Pong, anyone?)

Many of our fans know that my radiant wife and I are expecting a baby in the late spring of next year, and it occurs to me, as I encounter other people’s offspring, that I desperately do not want to raise a douche. A man should stand for certain things, like a lady’s entrance to a room or the occasional blowjob, and I really do want to make sure whatever zygote I stamp with my seal of approval does not end up growing into one of these “sortaguys” that plague our streets and salons nowadays.

What lessons should a child know? How do you handle corporal punishment? How do you effectively impart what you know of the way to be to a human, and downplay horrific aspects of your character, so that the kid does not imprint them? How am I going to learn to sleep with jammies now? It’s a brave new world, and I call on The Heard for guidance.

Plus, we need a new word for women. I am weary of “chicks”… We tossed around broads, dames, skirts, and Captain Inappropriate offered “gash”, but I would like something that connotates class, yet is more familiar than women. And no, female just sounds affected.

We rock and rolled, hootchie cootch, to the following great musics:

Former Fat Boys – Shake Your Ta-Tas (This is the Unofficial of “SomaCow For The Boobies™ Campaign.
Spanking Charlene – I Hate Girls
Straight Outta Junior High – Meatbags, Douchebags, and Me

…and a special appearance by Thee Werq’n B!tches