Hey all you Bobsworlde citizens! I'd like to personally thank all you Koester's Foesters out there for contributing to the Patreon. Thanks to you, we here at Bobsworlde magazine are able to provide you with another episode this month. Something truly special is happening on the internet, and it is a very... peculiar thing.
Hey guys, first up, I have to apologize for being a day late in getting these posts to you. Here in New Jersey we've holed up, waiting out the rain in the dark, but all that's behind us now because I've got not only the Halloween podcast for you, but also this month's Scary Story Time! So first up, here's an hour long show filled with not only submitted stories from friends and listeners, but also filled with some of our own experiences, which you can get by:
2. Going to the WBKE iTunes Store Page, or searching for us on Stitcher!
I hope you enjoy the show, guys, because of a good few reasons it's lacking Bobby, but my girlfriend Allie and I still had more than enough to say! We'd initially planned to just do a half hour, but we naturally ended up doubling that!
Now it's time for a story though. This is one of my favorites and it comes to us from, as best as I can find, just "Johnny." There's something about it's insanely simple twist that I really like. I can't quite put my finger on it. But lets just jump right in:
Ok, disclaimer: To the very best of my knowledge, this story is true. I don't expect to convince you - truth be told, I've had a hard time coming to terms with it myself. Cliche' as it may be, I really am a rational person, and, if not for this, I would probably be the most stone-faced atheist you'd ever meet. But, after much internal struggle and debate, I have come to the conclusion that there are things in life that simply can't be explained with reason, at least in the form in which we know it. Logic, for all the trust we place in it, is really nothing more than a candle, all too easily snuffed out. And when it is gone, we are left alone in the dark, and everything we would scoff at by daylight suddenly becomes very believable.
Alright, before I wax too melodramatic, here's my story.
I was very young; only 4 or 5, at most, before either of my siblings were born. It was just Mommy and Daddy and me, living in our little house in Great Bend, Kansas. Very quaint. We were a young family, without much money, and most of our furniture was second-hand.
It was the middle of the day; summer, hot, boring. I was playing marbles by myself on the thin carpet beside the huge, old, flower-patterned-couch. Mom was down the hall in the kitchen, and Dad was at work.
Why I was trying to roll marbles around on the carpet I don't know - we had a perfectly good linoleum floor, after all. But there I was, swishing the marbles back and forth, happily bouncing them into each other. Then, in my overzealous enthusiasm, I rolled too hard. My favorite marble - the clear, ruby-red one, zipped into the dark space under the couch and was lost. Damnit. Dad wasn't home, and he was the only one strong enough to move that huge old couch for me. I'd have to get my marble back myself.
I reached my hand under the couch, tentatively at first, then deeper.
Encountering no marbles, I pulled my hand out in disappointment.
Then, a hand reached out from under the couch back at me. I remember the image vividly, and I suspect I always will. It was a slim hand, with tapered fingers - a woman's hand. It was gnarled and wrinkled, as if aged, and it was dead black. Not black as in African, black as in dead. Of course, back then, I didn't know that corpses blacken as they decompose, so I didn't know what the black meant.
The hand reached out to me as far as it could, which was just up to the wrist. Then it retreated under the couch. Then it emerged again, this time pushing with it a little crumpled up, plastic bag with a logo on it I didn't recognize. It waited, as if expecting me to take the bag. Then, when I didn't, it pulled the bag back under the couch and was gone.
I got up, walked down to the kitchen, and told my Mommy what had happened. Why didn't I run screaming, or at least run? I don't really know. All I can say is, I was a little kid; a hand reaching out from under the couch at me didn't seem like that huge a deal. I hadn't yet learned what was and was not permissible in reality. I had no worldview.
Mom was skeptical, but walked me back to the couch and explained how I was probably imagining things. She even reached her hand under the couch to convince me that nothing was down there. Later, Dad lifted the couch up for me, and the only thing under it was, of course, my missing marble, plus a few more marbles I didn't even remember losing.
But here's the scary part...
For years, I remembered this - I even developed a weird fantasy of little hand-people living under the couch, and I, in my childlike innocence, believed that they would catch me and take me away if I ever reached into their domain again. Then, as I grew older, I wrote the memory off as a dream I had had as a child - cute, but silly.
Then, a few years ago, I recounted the story to my mother.
She gave me a funny look, and told me she remembered it, because, after all, she had been there. She told me that she remembered me coming to her in the middle of the day and telling her about the hand under the couch, and remembered being highly disturbed by my story, since I was an extremely quiet, well-behaved kid who didn't ever lie.
Then she told me about the couch itself. According to her, she and Dad had gotten the couch from the estate of an old woman who had actually died on it. This was the first time I had heard about this, but it sure explained why they got rid of the couch within a month of my story.
But here's part that truly frightens me, even to this day. The part that I have to try so hard to get out of my mind some nights. Remember that bag the hand pushed towards me? I've never forgotten the logo that was on it. And, recently, (as in a few years ago), I saw the same logo again, on what looked like the same type of bag, in a hardware store.
It was a bag of utility razor-blades.
Well that's a wrap on Halloween, everybody! I hope you enjoy the story, I hope you enjoy the show, and I hope you spread the word about us!
So please remember to follow us on Twitter (@WillRogers2000 and @BobbyKoester), to like our Facebook Page, and to subscribe to our YouTube Channel! You can also send us comments or questions at WillAndBobby@gmail.com! We have some amazing announcements coming up, so keep an eye on us, guys!
See you again for episode 44 of WBKE on Sunday!
Hey guys, welcome to a very special (VERY NSFW) episode of Will and Bobby Know Everything. Right off the bat, you'll hear Bobby and me giving you this disclaimer: This show sounds like shit (but no show will ever sound this bad again thanks to some new equipment we got), and this is the first show to our knowledge where the guest host seems to be genuinely annoyed by us. We debated all week whether or not to put this episode online, because there are quite a few moments where things get a little tense, but the fact of the matter is that our guests were perfectly friendly and interesting the clear majority of the time, and the tension itself is worth listening to. All in all, it's a rough conversation, but I think it's a great show!
So a huge thanks to our hosts Fetish Jade and Sophie, who I hope understand that my disclaimer is intended to give hopefully objective context for the conversation, and who I hope know we mean no harm! You can find them at FetishJade.com!
And here's how to listen:
1. CLICK HERE!
2. Go to the WBKE iTunes Store page, or search for the show on the Stitcher smart phone app!
3. Read our insanely detailed How to Listen page!
Also be sure to follow us on Twitter (@WillRogers2000 and @BobbyKoester) and like us on Facebook (and find more in our About Us page)! To win a super sweet prize, send interesting information or personal experiences with fetishes to us at WillAndBobby@gmail.com! If we pick your fact/story, you will win an ACTUAL STUPID PRIZE! Also feel free to send comments/questions/hate mail!
Enjoy the show!
Episode 42 next week!
Hey guys, welcome to Episode 39 of WBKE, hosted by none other than my (Will) sister Kristen Rogers! I can't believe how well this show came out considering that not only was I in a shitty mood as we recorded, but Bobby Skyped in from Brooklyn, because he wasn't feeling well. It's such a goddamn good show. Kristen tells us about a possibly psychopathic woman who comes into her salon, Bobby talks about a weird control freak who came into his bar, and I generally lose my temper about everything! I say this a lot, but this might actually be one of my favorite shows we've ever done!
We still want you to send in your scary stories! If you have any personal encounters with the supernatural or a favorite scary story, we want to hear about it! Email is at WillAndBobby@gmail.com with spooky stuff that we can read on next month's Halloween show! Also if you have a friend or family member who has a story, get them involved! You can also leave your story for us as a voicemail! Just call us on Skype! Our username is WillAndBobby, and when you call you'll hear a message from me, prompting you to start talking! Please please please send in stories or tell your friends to, I think it'd be a lot of fun to have your stories in the show!
Finally, feel free to email us with comments or questions and please post about us on Facebook and Twitter and shit. Help spread the word! No one knows who we are!
Episode 40 next week!
Hey guys, welcome to this month's Scary Story Time, it's a big one. But first things first: Quick disclaimer: I’m a really big fan of horror movies and scary stories. Recently I’ve been finding a lot of interesting little scary stories written anonymously by people on the internet, so I decided to start sharing some of the ones I like. You should know, before you read on, that I did not write any of these stories, unless otherwise noted. You should also know that I won’t always be posting stories that I enjoy 100%. There could be a ten-page story that I post because I like one sentence of it. In that case, I assume I’ll explain why I posted horse-shit and what merit I see in it. Sometimes, I’ll post “scary” stories that I hate, think are stupid, or maybe even funny. But more than that, you should really know that some of these stories may be somewhat graphic, so just steel yourself for anything, especially poor spelling and grammar (I don’t edit these stories). No matter what, though, I hope you enjoy them too, and if you know any stories or sources, please share them with me. Also, if you have any requests, just ask, I have a huge archive of this stuff!
Now that that's out of the way, I want to post the first story in the series I was talking about on this week's Will and Bobby Know Everything. It's called Footsteps, and it's the first part of what eventually became the book Penpal by Dathan Auerbach. It's fucking awesome, and the whole series deserves a look, though admittedly I'm more a fan of the original stories online than I am of the final book. Anyway, let's get to it:
This is long, so I apologize for that. I’ve never had to tell this story with enough detail to actually explain it all the way, but it is true and it happened when I was about 6 years old.
In a quiet room if you press your ear against a pillow you can hear your heartbeat. As a kid, the muffled, rhythmic beats sounded like soft footsteps on a carpeted floor, and so as a kid almost every night – just as I was about to drift off to sleep – I would hear these footsteps and I would be ripped back to consciousness, terrified.
For my entire childhood I lived with my mother in a fairly nice neighborhood that was in a transitional phase – people of lower economic means were gradually moving in, and my mother and I were two of these people. We lived in the kind of house you see being transported in two pieces on the interstate, but my mom took good care of it. There were a lot of woods surrounding the neighborhood that I would play in and explore during the day, but at night – as things often do to a kid – they took on a more sinister feeling. This coupled with the fact that, due to the nature of our house, there was a fairly large crawlspace underneath filled my mind with imaginary monsters and inescapable scenarios which would consume my thoughts when I was awoken by the footsteps.
I told my mom about the footsteps and she said that I was just imagining things; I persisted enough that she blasted my ears with water from a turkey baster once just to placate me, since I thought that would help. Of course it didn’t. Despite all the creepiness and footsteps the only weird thing that ever happened was that every now and then I would wake up on the bottom bunk despite having gone to sleep on the top, but this wasn’t really weird since I’d sometimes get up to piss or get something to drink and could remember just going back to sleep on the bottom bunk (I’m an only child so it didn’t matter). This would happen once or twice a week, but waking up on the bottom bunk wasn’t too terrifying. But one night I didn’t wake up on the bottom bunk.
I had heard the footsteps but was too far gone to be woken up by them, and when I was awoken it wasn’t from the sound of footsteps or a nightmare, but because I was cold. Really cold. When I opened my eyes I saw stars. I was in the woods. I sat up immediately and tried to figure out what was going on. I thought I was dreaming, but that didn’t seem right, though neither did me being in the woods. There was a deflated pool float right in front of me – one of those ones shaped like a shark. This only added to the surreal feeling, but after a while it seemed like I just wasn’t going to wake up because I wasn’t asleep. I stood up to orient myself, but I didn’t recognize these woods. I played in the woods by my house all the time and so I knew them really well, but if these weren’t the same woods then how could I get out? I took a step and felt a shooting pain in my foot which knocked me back to where I had just been laying. I had stepped on a thorn. By the light of the moon I could see that they were everywhere. I looked at my other foot but it was fine, and as a matter of fact so was the rest of me. I didn’t have another scratch on me and I wasn’t even that dirty. I cried for a little bit and then stood back up.
I didn’t know which way to go so I just picked a direction. I resisted the urge to call out since I wasn’t sure I wanted to be found by who or what might be out there
I walked for what seemed like hours.
I tried to walk in a straight line, and tried to course-correct when I had to take detours, but I was a kid and I was afraid. There weren’t any howls or screams, and only once did I hear any noise that scared me. It sounded like a crying baby. I think now that it was just a cat, but I panicked. I ran veering in different directions to avoid big thicks of bushes and collapsed trees. And I was paying close attention to where I stepped because by that point my feet were in pretty bad shape. I paid too much attention to where I was stepping and not enough to where those steps were leading because not long after hearing the cry I saw something that filled me with a kind of despair I haven’t experienced since. It was the pool float.
I was only 10 feet from where I had woken up.
This wasn’t magic or some supernatural space-bending. I was lost. Up until that moment I thought more about getting out of the woods than how I got in, but being back at the beginning caused my mind to swim. I wasn’t evensure that these were my woods; I had only been hoping that they were. Had I run in a huge circle around that spot, or did I just get turned around and start making my way back? How was I going to get out? At the time I thought the north star was just the brightest star, and so I looked and found the brightest one and followed it.
Eventually things started to look more familiar and when I saw “the ditch” (a dirt ditch my friends and I would have dirt-clod wars in) I knew I had made it out. By that point I was walking really slowly because my feet hurt so much, but I was so happy to be so close to home that I broke into a light jog. When I actually saw the roof of my house over a neighboring, lower-set house I let out a light sob and ran faster. I just wanted to be home. I had already decided that I wouldn’t say anything because I had no idea what I could possibly say. I would get back in the house somehow, clean up, and get in bed. My heart sunk as I rounded the corner and my house came fully into view.
Every light in the house was on.
I knew my mom was up, and I knew I would have to explain (or try to explain) where I had been, and I couldn’t even figure out where to start. My run became a jog which became a walk. I saw her silhouette through the blinds, and although I was worried about how to explain things to her that didn’t matter to me at that point. I walked up the couple of steps to the porch and put my hand on the doorknob and turned. Right before I pushed it open two arms wrapped around me and pulled me back. I screamed as loud as I could: “MOM! HELP ME! PLEASE! MOM!” The feeling of being so close to being safe and then being physically pulled away from it filled me with a kind of dread that is, even after all these years, indescribable.
The door I had been torn away from opened, and a flash of hope shot through my heart. But it wasn’t my mom.
It was a man, and he was enormous. I thrashed around and kicked at the shins of the person holding me while also trying to get away from the person who had just come out of my house. I was scared, but I was furious. “LET ME GO! WHERE IS SHE? WHERE’S MY MOM? WHAT’D YOU DO TO HER!?” As my throat stung from screaming and I was drawing in another breath I became aware of a sound that had been present for longer than I had perceived it. “Honey, please calm down. I’ve got you.” It sounded like my mom.
The arms loosened and set me down, and as man approaching me blocked out the porch light with his head I noticed his clothes. He was a cop. I turned to face the voice behind me and saw that it really was my mom. Everything was ok. I began to cry, and the three of us went inside.
“I’m so glad you’re home, Sweetie. I was worried I’d never see you again.” By that point she was crying too.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened. I just wanted to come home. I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok, just don’t ever do that again. I’m not sure me or my shins could take it…”
A little laughter broke through my sobs and I smiled a bit. “Well I’m sorry for kicking you, but why’d you have to grab me like that?!”
“I was just afraid that you’d run away again.”
I was confused. “What do you mean?”
“We found your note on your pillow,” she said, and pointed at the piece of paper that the police officer was sliding across the table.
I picked up the note and read it. It was a “running away” letter. It said that I was unhappy never wanted to see her or any of my friends again. The police officer exchanged a few words with my mom on the porch while I stared at the letter. I didn’t remember writing a letter. I didn’t remember anything about any of this. But even if I sometimes went to the bathroom at night and didn’t remember, or even if I could have gone into the woods on my own, even if all that could have been true, the only thing I knew at that point was,
“This isn’t how you spell my name . . . I didn’t write this letter.”
Anyway, I know you're probably freaked out right now, but I have the perfect remedy, it's my new YouTube companion piece to Scary Story Time. It'll be updated every month on the 13th along with the regular blog post, and it features me reading the worst of the stories I've found. So check out the first video!
That's it for this month's Scary Story Time, so go subscribe, tell your friends, and email us at WillAndBobby@gmail.com with comments/questions!
New Scary Stories next month!
This episode is the most important thing in the world. It represents the future. Change. Experimentation. Stupidity. Maybe we'll be sued. Max Rose joins us on the show this week for a conversation covering information about him, some of which is confusing, we read a listener's letter (booya!), and eventually we start talking about some new projects Bobby and I are working on. Projects that will hopefully be online soon. We also discuss something fucking weird that we're putting online on Wednesday. It may or may not be pulled after it's put up, so keep your eyes peeled, and get it as soon as possible. Wednesday. Remember. It's really fucking funny and weird.
Anyway, I know I've piqued your interest, so enough of this, just:
Click here go to our iTunes page, like our Facebook page, follow Bobby (@BobbyKoester) or me (@WillRogers2000) on Twitter, maybe donate, and email comments/questions/suggestions or offers to get involved with us to WillAndBobby@gmail.com!
No matter what, please help pass on the word about our goofy bullshit. Especially if you like it!
I'm excited. We're working on funny stuff for you guys!
Episode 34 next week!
Quick disclaimer: I’m a really big fan of horror movies and scary stories. Recently I’ve been finding a lot of interesting little scary stories written anonymously by people on the internet, so I decided to start sharing some of the ones I like. You should know, before you read on, that I did not write any of these stories, unless otherwise noted. You should also know that I won’t always be posting stories that I enjoy 100%. There could be a ten-page story that I post because I like one sentence of it. In that case, I assume I’ll explain why I posted horse-shit and what merit I see in it. Sometimes, I’ll post “scary” stories that I hate, think are stupid, or maybe even funny. But more than that, you should really know that some of these stories may be somewhat graphic, so just steel yourself for anything, especially poor spelling and grammar (I don’t edit these stories). No matter what, though, I hope you enjoy them too, and if you know any stories or sources, please share them with me. Also, if you have any requests, just ask, I have a huge archive of this stuff! Hey guys, it's the third and final Friday the 13th of the year 2012. Obviously we all know that this is the year the world ends, and having a trio of unlucky days is no coincidence. I'm here to honor the occaision with a scary story.
For those of you who listened to the WBKE LIVE show Bobby and I did (click here to watch), you heard my explanation of Mount Everest. You heard about the horrific conditions, about the dead zone, and about the human bodies that litter the mountain's peak. I happen to have a scary story for you, based on that idea. So why don't we just jump right in?
The Everest Corpses - True Story
When I read this, I couldn’t help but flashback to a story my uncle once told my cousins and I late one night at a family reunion. He was kind of notorious among the extended family; one of those reasons was that he went on an Everest expedition when he was younger. As kids, we adored him, even if our families tended to isolate him for reasons they wouldn’t say. In retrospect, I realize he was drunk that night, but I think that was the only reason he told us what he did when the other adults weren’t paying attention. My cousin asked him about the Everest expedition, and he told us that he’d lied. They’d climbed it, alright, but they never made it to the top as he had claimed. There were six of them, and they were climbing a standard route on the south face. A little after they crossed into the death zone and they saw their first corpse lodged in a ravine, the bravado of the men in the group dimmed. Their mood grew even worse when an unexpected snow squall came in and they had to camp for the night prematurely. My uncle visibly paled as he talked about setting up a tent within line of sight of a frozen body that clung to an opposing ridge. He kept peering at its distant contorted face until the snow blocked it out, his thoughts transfixed by how that face seemed twisted in eternal pain and horror. Whoever it was had died begging his friends to somehow save him from the impossible position to which he’d fallen. Sleep was difficult that night, but the rigors of the climb helped. He awoke at some point, his ears filled with the razor whistle of frozen wind from the storm outside. A hissed whisper kept him from getting up - the other two men in the tent were already awake, lying motionless and listening. Something was scratching around in the crunchy snow outside… but outside, the oxygen levels were too low for anything to survive. A quiet but continual cracking sound followed the scratches, as if something covered in ice was painfully clawing around. The sounds only lasted for a few minutes, but my uncle lost something of himself that night as he trembled there quietly while the icy horror wheezed “help me… help me…” outside in the dark. In the morning, their worst fears were confirmed. The high winds had torn open the other tent, and one of the men had been dragged out. On the dark and storm-torn slope, he was unable to find his way back, and had fallen and died on the same ridge as the other unreachable body. My uncle and his friends knew there was nothing they could have done - if they had gone out there they would have just died, too - but the incident ended the expedition. My uncle quieted as he described packing up in the sight of that nightmarish frozen corpse. It was hard to tell, but, the more he peered at it, the less the expression on its face seemed horrified and pained… and the more it seemed that its unnaturally wide mouth was actually a horrible grin. My uncle resolved to check the other tent’s damage to see if it really was from the wind when they got to base camp, but in all the commotion about the death of their friend, he never got the chance. That decayed and mocking leer has haunted him ever since.
Nothing about this story is technically supernatural, it's all plausible. Fuck, there's nothing more fascinating than that mountain, to me. It's the perfect setting for a horror story.
Now usually I'd end Scary Story Time with a picture of a goofy animal to help bring everybody's spirits from the depths of hell, and shake the fear out, but I have a better idea this month.
Along with my huge file of scary stories, I have another document which may not be as big, but is filled with some of the worst horror stories I've found on my searches of the internet.
So I'm going to cap the string of Friday the 13th's and end this month's SST with one of those. Here is one of the worst stories I've ever read. Good luck reading it:
I just moved into my new apartment and there are some things... creepy things. Like blood on the floor or steak knives. One time I went up to go take a piss and I find MY steak knife in floating mid air! I ran from it but it still stabbed me! One day, to see if this would help, I talked to my superintendent about it. He said "Well, you see, a Serial Killer Rapist lived in that apartment." Then I say "Well then, how did he die?" Then he says "A S.W.A.T team killed him." He goes on "But the creepiest thing of all is that they never found his body." After I found out about this, I will move ASAP. If it's not to late...
That story is one of the worst pieces of shit I've ever read. I really hope a child wrote it. Now, that was ostensibly to help comfort you after the horrifying Everest Story, but I actually have one more thing to share with you:
Happy Friday the 13th, everybody! More Scary Story Time next month!
Welcome to the 26th episode of Will and Bobby Know Everything! It's not really an official landmark, but this episode represents six solid months of WBKE!
Kind of cool, right?
Anyway, we're joined this week by our buddy Peter to talk about:
Killer whales being assholes, freak shows, snakes, boobs, and strangely enough, we bring Goosebumps up again.
So as usual:
Or search for us on the FREE Apple/Android/Blackberry app Stitcher.
Also Apple has released their own iPhone/iPad app specifically for podcasts, so go download it, subscribe to us, and rate us!
There are also a couple more fun things that Bobby and I have for you:
Last week I posted the Part Three of Will and Bobby Wrote Something, which ends the explanation of one show and begins another! Click here to read it!
And we did Will and Bobby Know Everything LIVE last week! It was weird, fun, and encouraging enough to make me want to do it again. We told some stories that aren't featured on the regular podcast, so click here to go watch it! You can even just leave it running in an alternate tab and listen to it, I guess!
We're also putting out an open call to get a third person to help us out! If you or a friend are interested (and capable of) helping Bobby and I get our recording equipment set up, edit the podcast, or have a fancy high tech camera, please get in touch with us at WillAndBobby@gmail.com, because as of right now it's just the two of us and there are a lot of things we want to write, shoot, edit, and put online!
So remember to donate (if you want), "like" our Facebook Page, follow us on Twitter (@WillAndBobby), and email WillAndBobby@gmail.com with any comments or questions. And go check out my girlfriend Allie's Etsy Store Color Bloc, and Anthony Walker's Band Camp page.
Thanks guys, I hope you enjoy the show.
Episode 27 next week!
This week on WBKE, we're joined by an amazing musician named Anthony Walker for a conversation that covers a startling amount of ground. This episode is about twice the length of an average episode of our show, because I honestly enjoy everything we talk about. As long as this episode is, there's still more that isn't making the cut! I just didn't want to clip another minute, so enjoy our discussion of: Shitty writing, philosophy, animal behavior, little people working as bouncers, forming bands, and The Poops (a band Bobby is/used to be in). We also play a fucking badass game toward the end of the show which I'm calling "Are You a Nice Person?" It's genius, so enjoy that, because it'll definitely be coming back.
So let me tell you about Anthony Walker. About 4 years ago, I was at a bar and there were different bands playing small sets. If you've listened to the show before, then you know that I (Will) am not the friendliest/nicest guy, and you can probably imagine that I don't pay much attention to people I don't know. Even still, I remember a guy playing a really awesome set. His music was really immersive. It totally grabbed my attention. Not long later, Anthony got a job with me at Fridays, and I instantly recognized him as the musician from the bar (which is also significant, because again, if you listen to the show, you know I have a fucking horrendous memory). He was that good.
For a good long time, on the odd occasion that I found myself hanging out and drinking at Fridays, I'd get fucking wasted (because everyone bought me drinks. It ruled), and inevitably Anthony and I would get around to drunkenly talking about how awesome it would be to have a combination music and comedy show.
Needless to say, I'm fucking stoked we had him on the show. So please go to his Band Camp page where you can set your own price for his music (Anthony says you can get it for free, but he's nicer than me. Pay him.), and go to his personal website where you can info about him and links to a shocking number of sites like YouTube and Tumblr: Anthony Walker.
So back to the show:
Go search for "WBKE" on the FREE Apple/Android/Blackberry app Stitcher!
Or for more detailed instructions, click here!
Let me remind you that there is going to be a LIVE WBKE this thursday, June 28th at 8:30pm eastern, over at Vokle! Go check out the site and get comfortable with it (search "Will and Bobby Know Everything" and follow us), and like us on Facebook or follow us on Twitter (@WillAndBobby) to get an update about when we've gone live!
Also email us at WillAndBobby@gmail.com will comments, suggestions, or questions for us to talk about! Remember that you can speak directly to us while we talk, too! It's a video chat so get your webcam going and bring something to the table! It'll be stupid and fun!
Enjoy this week's episode, I did!
Also, at the end, enjoy Anthony's song "Call Me Custer," from This City Never Sleeps, which has been stuck in my head all week.
Allie and I painted our apartment today, and we were both walking around singing that song, so good. Also "Sundowners."
LIVE EPISODE THIS THURSDAY! EPISODE 25 NEXT WEEK!
On this episode of Will and Bobby Know Everything, Evan Giller hosts a conversation about what we were like when we were kids. Poop is involved. Almost immediately. So that's good. We also discuss getting in trouble, bullies, and weird kids. It's a damn good episode, and there's a ton of stuff that made me burst out laughing while I edited it, so check it out and spread the word!
Or search for the show on the free Apple/Android/Blackberry app Stitcher to stream it!
Please feel free to leave any comments!
I hope you enjoy the show guys!
Episode 15 next week!
This week on Will and Bobby Know Everything, Igor Brodsky guides Bobby and me in a conversation about Technology! This episode has it all:
Questions about the future of pants technology.
Questions about the nature of the earth/aliens.
Discussion of what objects Bobby and I would like to be, which logically devolves into me trying to figure out the best way to ruin the rest of his life.
It's pretty goddamn action packed so get listening!
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Episode 9 next week!