Hey, Freak, since Monday, October 24th, 2022, coming up on the program today, a repressed

memory of my dad beating the fuck out of me, plus rocking out to a quality Linda Fingel

Hall of Fame cover, trying to drink a piss and shit smoothie, and hello, is this murder

business? I want to hire you to kill my son.

Do you think you're lucky to be alive today? No. No. The Zump Freaking smart. Freaking

eyes. The smell, the smoke. My mother smelled it. My father smelled it. And it was a matter

of time that that house Freaking went up, and I'll tell you why. I'm going to get

racial here. I'm going to get racial. Okay. Freaking. Nobody filled that oil tank. Oh,

winter long. It was all carousine. I heard a carousine explosion. Boom. Freaking. I heard

it. Freaking. Ask. Boom. I heard the freaking explosion. I've seen the smoke.

Flying through my freaking damn wall. It's the distorted view show with Tim Hansen. If I

worked from the last somebody, I definitely would have done anal no matter what. She is a

fat cunt. Welcome to 1-800-ath-home. Timothy James Hansen. Oh, my hands are cool. Yes,

everybody, Tim Hansen. Finally, ready to start a new week of podcasts here on TV

only got a great one for you. Today, hope you enjoyed the best of show I posted a little

bit earlier. I needed some time. I just got home from ash tabula. I needed to rest

and unpack what I had heard. Oh, yeah. Some major bombshells have been dropped. And I may

never be the same again. No, it's nothing like that. I had a great weekend. Visited my

mom. Made her throw up. Actually, she did it herself. And my mom and my brother were

planning a dinner when I came home. So on Saturday, we'd all go out to someplace to eat

just like a Mexican restaurant or whatever. Which I was fine with. I grabbed lunch beforehand

at like 130, thinking we were going to eat at, I don't know, seven, you know, standard

...