If you thought four hours a day, 1,200 minutes a week was enough, think again.

He's the last remnants of the old republic.

A sole bastion of fairness.

He treats crackheads in the ghetto gutter the same as the rich pill poppers in the penthouse.

Wow.

The clearinghouse of hot takes break free for something special.

The fifth hour with Ben Mallor starts right now.

In the air everywhere.

Hanging out in the audio dojo.

No days off. Travel? I don't care about your stinking travel.

No, no, no. The show must go on, as they say in show business, which is actually a negative thing.

When you break a leg, you have to, that phrase is you have to continue on because otherwise you won't get paid.

It's broke. It's broke.

That's what that phrase comes from.

But we are the fifth hour, Ben Mallor and Danny G.

And oh, what a night it was a very memorable night in the Twin Cities.

And we will have all of these.

I'm not going to get into it right now.

I need time to process Danny G. Radio.

I need time to let everything kind of marinate in my head before I am ready to give a

so illiquy.

You need time for Gatorade.

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