February 12, 2014 10:00pm


You are socially awkward and physically unattractive. Your choices in cars, food, clothes and kitchen appliances only come in beige, and that's alright with you. You have never had a meaningful relationship, except with contrived entities using pseudonyms on the world's most capitalized social network. Your taste in "music", however, is highly evolved and exquisite. You know this to be true, because you were invited to join the SOUND WORK GROUP, a private virtual venue composed of nothing but the greatest minds and ears on Earth. Your special needs are met, you click and share and no one tells you to turn that shit down. Every day is like the FINAL BROADCAST of NOSE HAIR LINT GLAND, hosted by Karen Carpenter, Bob-Marc, the disembodied voice of peckish Sherilyn Connelly, and perhaps KrOB and Look out!, Duck! It's Puzzling Evidence! YOU FOUND YOUR PLACE!

NOSE HAIR LINT GLAND: BTW, your mom just unfriended you.

Chatroom History
February 12, 2014 10:00pm - 1:30am

Alan B.: Spend some more money on lawyers for low power FM, the equipment is fine. (10:06pm)
Alan B.: FLAPPY BIRD IS AUTISM OVER 9000!! (10:07pm)
Alan B.: All the teenagers listening are in pain. (10:08pm)
Alan B.: Correction: No teenagers are listening. (10:09pm)
Dr. Penny: Taking us to the top of Everest! (10:10pm)
Alan B.: HI, Dr. Penny! (10:10pm)
Alan B.: This is not a test. (10:11pm)
Dr. Penny: :) (10:11pm)
Alan B.: Start (10:11pm)
Alan B.: Start (10:11pm)
Alan B.: Stop (10:11pm)
Dr. Penny: Now (10:12pm)
Alan B.: My pleasure. Thanks for asking. (10:13pm)
Alan B.: I would like to invite listeners to visit Sound Work Group on Facebook. We gather to talk about audio works which may or may not be composed of other recorded sounds. Cut ups, detrounement, mash-ups, etc. (10:17pm)
Alan B.: 12 Videos Featuring Walter Murch and The Sound Design of 'THX 1138' (10:21pm)
Dr. Penny: The cock remains hard as a rock. (10:22pm)
Alan B.: The letter U and the numeral 2 (10:24pm)
Alan B.: These (10:25pm)
Alan B.: guys (10:25pm)
Alan B.: are (10:25pm)
Alan B.: from (10:25pm)
Alan B.: England (10:25pm)
Alan B.: and (10:25pm)
Alan B.: who (10:25pm)
Alan B.: gives (10:25pm)
Alan B.: a (10:25pm)
Alan B.: shit? (10:25pm)
Dr. Penny: Karen can grab the forceps and remove the sebaceous cist. (10:28pm)
Alan B.: Z (10:32pm)
Dr. Penny: Pay Karen to make money off your house! (10:37pm)
Dr. Penny: Karen can remodel your cat box! (10:38pm)
Alan B.: A = A, motherfuckers! (10:40pm)
Alan B.: You hack into someone's account and then yell, "MINE!" (10:41pm)
Alan B.: Cocksucker time!~ (10:44pm)
Alan B.: Libertarian cocksuckers (10:45pm)
Alan B.: :( (10:56pm)
Alan B.: It's a flaw of mine. (10:57pm)
Alan B.: Time for a very serious station ID. (11:02pm)
Alan B.: Naw, man, naw. . . (11:11pm)
Alan B.: That's what NHLG needs, Suggestive Sell. (11:12pm)
Alan B.: A. B. C. (11:12pm)
Alan B.: ZZZZZ (11:21pm)
vj pussycat: looks like y'all put alan b to sleep again (11:27pm)
vj pussycat: it was just an observation (11:31pm)
Alan B.: I just hope they play David's stuff, he was all excited. (11:38pm)
Alan B.: Oh, wait, is this it?! (11:38pm)
Alan B.: My work is done here. (11:39pm)
Alan B.: Oh, Bob-Marc, you tease. (11:39pm)
Alan B.: ZZZZZ (11:40pm)
Alan B.: I got nipples on my titties they as big as my thumb (11:43pm)
Alan B.: He made it!!! (11:46pm)
Alan B.: Hi, Dr. Hal! (11:46pm)
Alan B.: Actually, cigarettes calm anxiety and focus the mind because they rob the brain of oxygen, making one slightly more stupid. (11:47pm)
Alan B.: x (11:51pm)
Alan B.: They speak Englisher. (11:53pm)
Alan B.: I can't even hear this Intenet! (11:54pm)
Alan B.: The frequency generator will never replace Booper. (11:55pm)
Alan B.: Those Hadrons are enormous. (12:00am)
Alan B.: Jamais! (12:00am)
Alan B.: NO PASARAN! (12:01am)
Alan B.: Grab it by the neck, you sissies. (12:01am)
Alan B.: The roars of the masses could be farts. (12:02am)
Alan B.: We have crossed the terminator and headed into the earliest morning. (12:06am)
Alan B.: Huzzah! (12:06am)
Alan B.: Balderdash! 000...He is a charter member. (12:06am)
Alan B.: My father's reel to reel had that magic eye!! I used to record AM radio using the crappy mic! (12:07am)
Alan B.: Check this out, gentlement: (12:08am)
Alan B.: I totally fucked up on that, Bob-Marc. (12:10am)
Alan B.: Radio Telegrapher's License. (12:10am)
Alan B.: Yeah, they could totes pull your ticket for operating a pirate station. (12:11am)
Alan B.: Hearing the Minutemen, I know Bob-Marc forgives my slight. (12:12am)
Alan B.: Form 605: (12:13am)
Alan B.: Okay, work tomorrow. Hale and farewell. (12:13am)
vj pussycat: gnite and thank you karen, bob-marc and hal (12:31am)

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