Wine in crime contains graphic and explicit content that may not be suitable for some listeners.

Listener discretion is advised. You are listening to Wine and Crime. The podcast were three friends

Chug Wine, Chat True Crime, and unleash their worst Minnesotan accents.

Oh my God, I can pantomime so much more aggressively

now that I have a mic on a boom arm.

It like follows my face around.

It's fucking amazing.

A Frazier Crane, craned mic.

The official microphone of Dr. Frazier Crane, K-A-C-L Seattle.

I'm listening. We're listening to ourselves talk for upwards of two hours.

Oh God, why do we do this?

Anyway, who are we?

Ah, fuck, I'm Kenyan, I'm Lucy.

Hey baby, I hear the blues

are falling, toss salads, and scrambled eggs.

I'm Amanda. Oh my!

But I got you pegged.

But I don't know what to do with those salads and scrambled names?

All right, but.

It kills me every time.

They're calling again.

Scrambled eggs all over my face.

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