Podcasts are the New American Novel: 20 Great Podcast Ideas

Holy shit have you heard about podcasts? Don't feel bad, I only just learned myself. But they're fucking awesome! Basically you just talk into a microphone about some shit for like an hour and everyone listens on their phone and you make a million dollars! You've gotta get in on this gravy train! 

I realize you might not be a comedy genius like me, so here are 20 Great Podcast Ideas you are totally free to use as themes when creating your next podcast!


Inspirational Quotes for a Moderate Fee

These days no one can get through the soul-crushing monotony of life without a little help. That's why I'm getting in the inspirational quote business. Feel free to print these up and send me $50 for each one you use.

  • Fate whispers to the warrior, "You cannot withstand the storm," and the warrior whispers back, "Who in the fuck just said that?" because fate is invisible.
  • A good attitude will take you further than a good resume, I mean unless you've got a really kick-ass resume. Like, if you've got some top ad agency listed, people will probably put up with your shit.
  • Do or do not; I don't care either way. Stop asking me.
  • When you look back and see one set of footprints in the sand, check the water because Jesus could be attacking by sea.
  • The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be touched, at least not by a shlub like you.
  • Nothing is impossible, but for all intents and purposes lots of shit is impossible.
  • What you do today can improve all your tomorrows, or really fuck up someone else's tomorrows.
  • Aim for the moon. Seriously Fuck that fucking moon. Smug piece of shit.
  • The secret to getting ahead is getting started with an overwhelming advantage in wealth and privilege.
  • A good name will shine forever, or hopefully at least until you're dead. Did you know Gandhi was a child molester and Mother Theresa was a nihilistic sadist?
  • Happiness depends upon ourselves and our ability to find someone to do weird sex stuff with.


Diary of Descent: September



September 1
Made contact. I saw them making their way out onto the roof. The guy had a knife-no way that would fend off the sea of corpses around them. I figured I knew what their next step was. I didn't think, didn't really have time to think, so I fired a shot into the air.

Their heads snapped my way, but so did every glistening, pus-riddled socket within two miles. I waved and tried to yell for them to wait, but everything was drowned out by the ringing in my ears and the unearthly howl of a thousand monsters in unison wanting their dinner.

September 2
Door is snapping. I can barely hear it over the thunder. I've packed all the furniture I can move in front of front and back doors. Only one window is accessible from the ground and it's already boarded. I hope it holds. I hope they don't start climbing over each other out there or they'll be coming in through the windows or maybe even the second floor.

I've tried yelling across the way to the people across the way, but we can't hear anything over the constant roar of the dead. They're on the roof now, and unable to go back inside the house they occupied because the windows gave out and let corpses stream in. Wish I could save them from a night outside in the lightning and rain, but it probably feels alright compared to the alternative.

September 2

I must've fallen asleep at the window, but I woke to hear the girl screaming. It was pitch black, but in the flashes of lightning I could make out multiple shapes on the roof. Some corpses must've found their way out the attic window. I sat paralyzed for what seemed like minutes, watching them struggle to clammer around the roof, avoiding death. Then I ran downstairs.

The curtains and bedsheets went up in flames much faster than I thought they would, but luckily I'd already prepared my bag and the meager possessions I have left on earth. I ran back upstairs, to the West side of the house, while the sudden light and sound from the fire consuming the living room attracted more dead.

The entire first floor was surrounded, but I had noticed a tree close enough to the roofline that I thought I could make the jump. Even loaded with what felt like a 50-pound pack, I figured the fear of being eaten alive was probably the best motivation I could hope for.

I threw myself into the night air and slammed into the branch with my chest, feebly wrapping my arms over the top of it and scrambling to try and lock in my grip. The rain worked against me, but it didn't need to--the branch broke from the force of the impact and I swung out into space, eyes skyward and not daring to scream, as I plummeted to the ground. For once fate or luck or whatever was on my side, a peel of thunder masked the sound of the impact. My pack broke most of the fall, but probably one of my ribs, too.

For a split second I just lied there. The rain on my face was bracing, and the sky was a beautiful cacophonous cross-hatch of lightning. My mind was at peace, and I waited for the inevitable clutching hands and biting jaws. Instead I was greeted with Buddy's whine and his tongue licking my face franticaly. I rolled over and started to move, slowly and painfully. The house was fully alight now, and despite the fact that many of them were burning to death it didn't stop the dead from lurching towards the light and sound.

The field was leveled in terms of sight and sound, so I kept to the flickering shadows cast by the fire and began making my way out of the neighborhood. In my daze, I'd forgotten about the family. I heard the screams and turned to see the woman locked in a fight with one of the monsters, tumbling off the roof. The crowd around them screamed in delight and swarmed her, hiding her from view. 

The last thing I remember was the man yelling for me to help them.

September 10
I've gotten really good at fishing.

There's a stream here. I think it feeds into a larger river eventually. After a couple days of desperately hunting for any sort of habitat that might have canned goods, I managed to cut off some paracord from my backpack and fashion a hook from one of the zipper pulls. Took awhile to get the hang of setting such a shitty hook, but this stream has a lot of fish and the dead things don't seem to notice. 

I'm curently in the forest South of the base; if I had to guess I'm probably five miles from the house I burned. After the fire the majority of the creeps seem to have dissipated. Maybe something else caught their attention. The forest is sickeningly quiet now. Not much is alive to make noise. 

The rain has let up, but it's getting cooler. I don't want to spend another winter outdoors. I need shelter and I need resources. I'm going to have to try and visit the airfield again.

September 13

I've got to find batteries.

Even if I never used them, being able to turn on a light when I'm moving at night to escape those things would help even the playing field. They hone in on noise quickly.

September 16
Had a visitor today. Buddy tipped me off with his growling. This poor son of a bitch was in a military dress uniform. It was almost entirely black with ancient blood and gore caked into the very fiber. The top of his uniform - and most of him - was in tatters from dozens of bullet holes. His eyes were long since rotted out, but he still swept his head from side to side, listening or smelling or whatever to try and find me.

It was a pain in the ass trying to sneak up on him. He locked in on any sound I made and would turn pretty quickly. Luckily he couldn't see shit so I was able to slip up close and put a knife in the back of his neck and hit the brainstem. 

If all the other parts rot off after long enough, why not the brain? Shouldn't they all be dead by now?

September 20
There is something else out here.

I've been scouring the less inhabited parts of the base for any kind of supplies and cursing my disregard for math classes in school. What I'd give for an engineer right about now. Looking back it's hard to know if I'm being extra paranoid or if I've been seeing signs for awhile now. 

I've noticed bodies, which is nothing new, but these have taken especially heavy damage. I figured at first it was just due to the time gone by and maybe heavier weapons from the military. But the things I'm seeing aren't like bullet holes or explosions. They look more like animal attacks.

And I would've thought they could be animal attacks, or scavenging, but I don't know of any animal around here that does this kind of damage.

September 22
Woke up to Buddy barking up a storm into the dark. He's not usually so worked up around the dead. 

Looks like no sleep for me.

September 24
I've been casing the area around the base for weapons, and I'd finally ventured past the fences to poke around. I guess I should've expected the place to be huge and lacking in distinct "THIS WAY TO GUNS" signs. I've been marking off rooms and buildings I've visited with an X made from whatever's handy: rocks, clothes, or whatever I can find.

Today I doubled back to make sure I'd checked a closet to find my drywall and rock X disturbed. On a hunch I checked another; it had been tossed all around.

September 26
Here comes the rain again. Hopefully I get a few more dry days before it sets in for the rest of fall and winter.

September 28
I saw whatever is snooping around. It's not an animal. It's not any animal I know of, anyway. It was as tall as me at its shoulder. 
Could be a bear, based on the size, but it didn't look like it had any fur. 

It didn't look like has any skin at all.

Flickr photo alone by Alex used under a Creative Commons License.


Thanks for Leaving That in my Brain

I overheard this conversation:

"I had to wear a neckbrace once, it was as hilarious as you'd expect."

"Oh my god what happened?"

"I had the whole thing, you know? The neck brace thing? It was hilarious. I looked ridiculous."

"Oh my god that's hilarious! How did you hurt your neck?"

"Oh it's a really boring story."

"Wow that is hilarious."

Now I'm sitting here wondering what part of that was supposed to actually be hilarious.