📄 Transcript [show]
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just like a foundation or things like that.
She eats eyeshadow.
Nasty.
Because I would actually went and smelled my eyeshadow.
I'm like what the fuck could be in there that she would want to eat?
It's disgusting.
And I mean she excessively, she goes to the store and she'll smell the makeup and then she'll take a taste of it to see if she wants to buy it.
And she has it like hidden all around her house.
She had it even in her fucking weave.
She had a makeup compact in her weave.
Okay, like that's how bad it is.
Like she's that obsessed with eating makeup.
It's nasty.
And then this other guy, oh my god, this motherfucker was so like sketchy looking.
Little skinny dude addicted to eating plastic bags.
Plastic bags really.
And he looked like a black ripped down version of Woodstock or something.
He looked like a little chicken chest little motherfucker.
Going around eating like plastic bags like, you know, plastic bags that newspapers come in.
Grocery, you know, grocery plastic bags and shit like that.
And he actually broke off his engagement because this addiction was taking over his life.
I mean, his life.
I mean, really.
This shit is like crazy.
And then another girl who likes to suck on soiled diapers.
Like piss, yeah.
Piss soiled diapers.
She'll she likes to sniff the diaper and then she'll put it in her mouth and suck on it.
Disgusting, man.
Fuck.
And I thought of my love for eating Ajax when I was a kid was bad.
But no, this shit is crazy.
So, yeah.
So whatever, man.
These motherfuckers are not sane at all.
So anyway, right here, I'm just going to take a short break because when we come back, I'm going to tell a story about a man who actually was buried alive and discovered in a cemetery.
And then we're going to go into my first story of necrophilia called Nurse Wendy.
So I'm going to take a small, short break and then come right back right after this. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
I once understood Feeling a sickness Building inside of me Who will I really have to answer to?
March on through the rivers of rain Soul stripped into the air False advice behind The crooked cross The broken heart The broken heart The broken heart Who only one is expected to be With no emotion but feeling suppressed Blind obedience carries me through it all Conscious of what I learn to forget March on through the rivers of rain Soul stripped into the air False advice behind The crooked cross The crooked cross Without the!
right now now can you um just imagine right you're um in a cemetery to visit one of your loved ones and then you're there you know you're expressing you know your love for whoever is in the ground or whatever buried and the the grave next to this person all of a sudden starts moving and then you see a hand raised up out of the ground and this is a true fucking story okay it's like a stream a scene straight out of a living dead horror film this man in brazil was pulled from a grave alive after a woman saw his hand surging through the ground this is some fucked up shit can you imagine this man's like hand coming up through a ground and you're like you know you just you you know sad because you know you're talking to one of your loved ones or something and you see this shit the woman who has not been named she was she was visiting a late family member's grave about a week ago in sin paulo when she heard a noise she just she then saw the ground moving before before and a hand came up through the ground followed by a head what the fuck what the fuck she told the daily mail i was terrified to see a man who i thought is the man that is the man that is the man that is the man that is the man that is the man that is the man was dead trying to get out of the grave she first ran away screaming well who could blame her then called police who reportedly didn't believe her at first and i wouldn't believe that shitty i'd be like what the fuck bitch you're on some kind of ecstasy or some shit get your ass out of here um convincing the police that she was that she just witnessed um whatever this was this guy coming out of the grave was actually real she was trying to convince the police police believed the man is a former city hall worker and ended up in the grave after getting in a fight in another location it's possible his attackers took him to the cemetery while he was passed out after a brutal beating and buried him alive that's fucked up so he's kind of lucky then that they didn't like obviously they didn't bury him eight feet under because i think now he used to be six feet under but now they bury him eight feet under so obviously they buried him in a shallow grave okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay is!
fucked up.
So now, we have you guys something to say?
But yeah, that's kind of crazy.
I think I would have pissed and shit my pants and everything else to see some shit like that.
Where was this again?
It's Sao Paulo.
I don't know.
Somewhere.
It's in Brazil.
Sao Paulo, yeah.
And yeah.
It probably took a while because he was he was like It's like some thriller shit.
That's fucking cool.
Anyway, so we're going back to my roots here.
Got another story about necrophilia now.
I know there's some curious people out there who actually asked me, Delia, are these stories that you tell on your show?
I actually had another DJ here who asked me are these stories that I tell on my show real?
Yes, they are real and if they or they're based on on the truth.
And this story actually is a true based story.
Actually, Nurse Wendy, she works at Henry Mayo Hospital around the corner from our house.
So, yeah.
Nurse Wendy willed the gurney into the ward.
She had been the only, he had been the only man left in there.
She drew the partitions around for privacy anyway.
The life support machine had been wheeled away and she had been asked by the young man's doctor to wheel him down to the morgue as the other assistants were busy or had left the hospital.
But she stood there for a while.
Was it silence that made her stay and draw the partitions?
Was it him not knowing of her existence anymore?
She could not wheel him away just yet.
What do you think, Nurse Wendy?
Had in store for this motherfucker?
Now, we always tell stories, you know, you always hear stories about men, you know, fucking dead women.
But you don't hear a lot about women having sex with dead men.
Well, this bitch, Nurse Wendy, gets hers in.
She gazed at his still face and the eyes that the doctor had closed.
She noticed bodily contours from beneath the sheet and her heart was beating fast.
She occasionally made nocturnal visits of this kind.
So she was like one of these death hacks.
She'd go around to different, you know, wards or whatever when people were dying and shit.
She does some fucked up shit in here.
But most of the deceased patients she attended were much older.
He was young, early twenties, and the admin staff were having difficulty locating relatives.
The life support was needed elsewhere.
She moved around to the side of the bed and paused.
She sat beside him and looked at his pale, pale face.
His eyes were closed.
He no longer breathed.
She removed the covers that kept her image of imaginary.
Kept his image imaginary.
Peeling the layers back gave her a brief twinge of excitement.
This was not a work act, a clean him up act.
This was something else.
Something exciting.
Something naughty.
She moved closer to him and felt him, felt herself tremble.
Oh god.
A nice, fresh, stiff one.
Really?
A slight scuffling could be heard as her shoes found a resting place beneath the bed.
Her hands began to unbutton his cotton top.
The top button first, of course.
The one nearest his pale neck.
Ew.
She unbuttoned it and hesitated.
Oh my god.
Before leaning forward to kiss the area of his exposed skin.
Ew.
Kiss some pale ass dead skin.
It's just all cold.
It's like kissing raw meat.
Go kiss some hamburger meat or something.
Did her lips detect a lingering remnant of body heat?
Her heart began to pound.
He had expired only recently.
The next button revealed his upper chest.
She kissed a small patch of, of hair at his, um, over his sternum.
Her hands paid a visit to each of his nipples and pinched them, pinched them in turn.
She's pinching dead nipples.
Pat's over here shaking his head.
They had been warm once, but now they were cool.
Her pinching made the tiny nipples hard.
Now see, I didn't understand this when I read this.
When you're dead, how can somebody, you're dead, right?
How can somebody pinch your nipples and make them hard?
I know he was recently deceased, but he's dead.
How do your nipples get hard when you're dead?
Nurse Wendy looked at his, um, unmoving chest.
His ribs were now blocked and silent.
She knew death would start work on him shortly.
To her, a good-looking man when alive is considered handsome.
A good-looking man when dead is beautiful.
She knew this, um, this beauty was now limited before it would be torn apart in a surface by worms.
Ew.
A man had an entire temporary landscape that demanded exploration.
A landscape that would soon be deforested and destroyed by the impending erosion.
She stroked his face, the small patches of subtle that signified early manhood.
Unbuttoning the rest of his top, she traced the fine hairs downwards from his chest to his navel and kissed the smooth, flat belly.
She's serious.
Kissing and caressing this motherfucker, like, ew, that's some love making you do to a live man, not nobody dead.
Wills, attending to his belly, one of her hands straight, grew adventurous and followed the path of increasingly dark hair southwards.
It was brought to a halt by the cord that kept his pants closed close to his waist.
Her hand hesitated at the silly obstruction and then began to work its own way past now loosened cord towards his lower torso and into the patch of fur that lay concealed beneath.
So she's really getting...
She lay her head on his flat belly while her hand played amongst the soft curls.
Ew, his pubic hair.
The palm of her hand brushing across the patch, her fingers isolating some of the hairs, twisting them around and around.
Ew.
One finger stretched out and brushed the padded base of his cock, slowly tracking its contour and flaccid...
flaccid length until arriving at his exposed tip.
Go on, Nurse Wendy.
Nurse Wendy stood up and moved around to the foot of the bed.
She reached out and pulled his pajama trousers down to his upper thighs.
And this, um, semi-darkness, his shy manhood lay foundering on its side, and like its owner, both were caught in a slumber of no return.
So, he was sleeping, his dick was sleeping.
A slumber of no return.
How is she gonna get this up?
She shivered at the sight and felt the beginning of a slow, deep, delicious ache between her legs.
Yikes!
An ache she'd only felt when men in this state of men in this state and no other.
So she's not even attracted to live men.
She wants her some dead dick.
The unending silence and stillness.
The perfect junct...
uh, juxtaposition that made her her moments with, um, them delicious.
Her self-awareness, her body warm and receptive to touch, their loss of awareness, their bodies cold and numb, her body capable of movement and manipulation, their bodies compliant, immobile, and vulnerable.
Vulnerable as calves caught in deep mud.
So, she likes this domination.
That's like what a lot of, um, necrophiliacs like.
They like the fact that they can, you know, pretty much dominate you and you can't do anything, you can't say anything.
She learned from their bodies and explored their bodies, grew familiar kissing them.
Ugh.
I still don't get the kissing part.
I can see her trying to fuck somebody, but kissing, they can't kiss you back.
Handling and playing with them, toying with them, pleasuring herself with them.
She imagined herself as their goddess, their creator, and that she created them for her pleasure.
She wanted to spend hours with many male bodies without being labeled or criminalized or deprived of them in a cell.
See, she didn't want to get caught.
That's why she went to the morgue and did this shit.
She knew the dead would never share her secrets with the living.
It was the living she had to worry about.
She knew that dead men would never betray her, never talk behind her back.
They would suddenly obey her, fulfill her wish, and carry her sweet secrets away with them before they could grow bitter on the wagging tongues of the living.
Dead men would not remember what she said or did to them.
Of course they're dead.
Well, their brains aren't working anymore.
They'll take it to the beyond and the eternity.
They faithfully held on to the secrets dead men selflessly gave their bodies to her without judgment or expectation or demand.
Their staring eyes were incapable of recording image or curve.
Their mouths would not utter insult or biting sarcasm.
Instead, they would provide her with receptacle for her kisses.
Her memories and moments of passion would remain safe with her, and this newly deceased man before her would respect her wish and follow those who obeyed her before him.
Thoughts aside, she now let her lust rise uncontrollably upwards into her warm throat as she climbed onto the bed.
Her heart pounding as she slowly moved.
Why is her heart pounding like, why does she have anxiety?
This motherfucker's dead.
He's not like, all of a sudden he's gonna open up his eyes and be like, get the fuck off me, bitch!
Her heart pounding as she slowly moved all off.
Her breath pours all over his restful torso.
Her breasts beneath her uniform touched the young man's unmoving belly as she moved up to his still face.
What is she gonna do to his face?
Gently she set herself onto his groin.
She felt the small, soft, seemingly insignificant lump of his endowment between her legs, but that part of him would willingly come to her later.
You're just sitting there on a lumpy piece of coal.
I don't even like writing a limp dick when the man is alive, let alone when the motherfucker dead.
At least I know it's gonna get hard later.
The first act, a slow pelvic rub against him.
Leaning forward with her hands, resting on each side of his head.
She kissed his chin and mouth.
First she gave him soft kisses on the lips while her uniform rubbed against his naked chest.
Her large nipples were strained inside her bra.
Pressed against her clothing and came into a vague, teasing contact with her upper body.
Right here I'm gonna take just a little break right here.
I'm gonna play one of my songs here and we're gonna find out what Nurse Wendy did right after this.
But I'm gonna play a song for you that I actually wrote myself.
And we're gonna get back into some Nurse Wendy here.
Let me just get this loaded really quick.
And I'm thinking about maybe using this for Julia's Dark Side too.
But um, we'll see.
Alright, here it is.
It's called Good Life.
Good Life Good Life Good Life Good Life Good Life Good Life Good Life Yeah We are in a good life Good life Good life Yeah Yeah We are in a good life Yeah You take great part in everything You don't have to do anything Lost in sugar Can't have a real bad time Your daddy is a wino And your mommy's quite insane From monks to porters To a ratchet to get her down Your sister is a jerk You can't fit in with your kid Your brother's a gay singer In a step-liver band Your girlfriend's got her face To go with the heaven-made There ain't one person you know You ain't ripped off yet You look deep in the mirror Like deep into his eyes Your face is replaced Like creature is spice But I know what you're made of In my shadow-free I know you'll be dividing Until you're dirty Make-up is over You ain't ripped-off yet All right, ladies and gentlemen, we are back.
I just want to take a little bitty break there.
I'm going to play a little bit more of my song just before the end of the show because I got a little complaint from Patrick that he didn't hear enough.
So I'll play that again a little later.
Anyway, so we're getting back to Nurse Wendy now.
And so she basically climbed on top of this dead dude and her rhythmic movements from her hips and thighs swayed her body with his.
Slowly her tongue pressed itself against his lips.
I still don't get the whole fucking trying to kiss this motherfucker.
I don't get it.
Why are you sticking your tongue in some dead man's mouth?
Mouth, that's nasty.
Flicking both of them slowly before initiating itself into his oral chamber.
Slowly exploring his mouth until it reached its still cool counterpart and turned playful.
Wilt's wrestling inside his mouth.
Nurse Wendy reached down beneath her skirt to give her pleasure some needed focus.
Oh, wow.
There was a brief tearing sound of Velcro parting.
So this bitch came prepared, right?
Like she didn't wear regular panties.
She wore Velcro, right?
And like the crotch because she knew she like some good looking dead man would probably die today.
And she ended up fucking him.
So she, you know, she came prepared.
As she made a convenient swift entry to her front, knowing that she could be sought after at any time.
Her Velcro underwear always came in handy for such moments.
Lifting his limp penis, she gave it a necessary task.
She didn't suck it or nothing and try to get it hard.
I mean, what the fuck?
I mean, she's doing all this.
She might as well get down there and like give it a little attention, try to suck that shit or something, try to get it up.
She gave it a necessary task to service her most tender region.
I wonder where that is.
While she made vital contact, she wondered if her act betrayed a boyish virginity.
And whether his cock had been any significant action before falling silent for eternity.
She had read once in a paper where a young virgin man was dying of cancer and his last wish was to be with a woman.
His doctor arranged it for him before he had gone to his grave.
Nurse Wendy smiled at this young man's innocent face and convinced herself of his purity.
She felt a privilege in tarnishing his boyish innocence.
You fucking bitch.
He won't be no virgin no more.
Each slow, self-guided, rhythmic brush against him sharpened her aching need whilst directing her movements below.
She freed one arm to explore his face.
Her fingertips sought desperately.
She is definitely like a passionate lover with these dead men.
Because, I don't know, don't you just put a stint in their dick or something and, you know, get it out of their face.
But she's like making love and like touching their face and she's really all into this shit.
Sought desperately for his attention.
His attention.
She sought desperately for his attention.
What kind of attention you gonna get from a slab of meat?
I don't know.
Where is my perfect dead man?
She whispered between her, between breaths.
At a time, she unfastened his eyelids so that she could stare into his eyes.
To her young lover's eyes.
A moan escaped her as she saw the undivided attention he now gave her.
Her free hand, you should have saw what I did.
If you see the video, you see how I was looking.
But her free hand dipped toward the moistening groove between her legs.
She ran her fingers through several times and held it there before imploringly reaching for his mouth.
Her fingertips moistened his dry lips with her sticky lust before they slipped past and brushed his virgin tongue.
How did she know he was a virgin?
He's probably eating pussy the whole time when he was alive.
Naturally, his lips closed over her fingers as she slowly withdrew them.
She leaned forward.
He fucking, he like bit down on them because, you know, like dead people can do that.
You know, you stick your finger in them and go, like, they can bite on that shit.
I know this stuff because my dad used to be, you know, a mortician.
Slowly withdrew them.
She leaned forward once more and kissed him.
The shifting of her weight made him groan.
Ooh.
The shifting of her weight made him groan.
Ooh.
How can a dead person groan?
I don't know.
Her delicious scents escaped his lips and greeted her.
Nurse Wendy moaned.
Oh, yeah, lover.
She released his pale, glistening cock and moved herself up to his head, regretting that she hadn't been there to witness his passing on.
On one lucky occasion, she had been a witness to a man dying as she waited as he neared death.
Before grasping the opportunity, the ward was full of other men, but she, again, drew the partition, for the private encounter.
Aside from the front entry, she remained fully clothed.
So she was waiting for this dude to, like, die in, or, you know, waiting for him to, like, near death.
She sat there and stalked this motherfucker the whole time until she was alone.
He was made hard and kept hard with the assistance of a pump and a small tourniquet around the base of his penis.
This bitch don't be playing with.
She wants some dick.
She gonna get it.
She slipped a condom on his member before intercourse and made the intercourse slow and silent, driven solely by the musculature of her vagina.
She made a slow, gradual entry, an inch at a time.
As he fell in and out of consciousness, at one point he awoke, looked vaguely at her body mounted on him, and smiled without a word.
Not long after that, she felt his slow departure, as his flagging hardness left her hungry body.
So when he died, his penis died, too, inside her vagina.
Wouldn't it be funny if, like, just before, like, he passed on, like, he, like, he ejaculated a little bit and got her pregnant?
That would be fucked up.
The last vestige of his bagged life slipped out into the cool air.
She now stared longingly into her new...
dead lover's eyes while welcoming him to her sex, shivering as his nose made contact.
Her rhythmic movements, she began once more as she sought the contours of his face that gave her the most pleasure.
Holding his head firmly...
Okay, this is where it gets really weird.
Holding his head firmly to her body, now she's got this fool, this dude's face inside of her vagina.
This dead man's face in her vagina, she's holding his...
holding his head firmly to her body.
She ached...
I'm sorry, she arched her back and closed her eyes.
Her vulva loosened with this new arousal, made delicious sounds as it caressed...
as she caressed his head, mouth, and nose.
So her vagina, her vulva, is on his head, his mouth, and his nose.
That's how big her vagina is.
It can cover all that.
I mean, if she, like, fucking noses and shit, she would have had a field day with your ass if you died.
Don't die in Henry May Hospital, Pat.
His head, mouth, and nose.
Her lips parted whenever his nose came into more intimate contact.
She straightened her back to get a look at him and directed his gaze.
His eyes held no cunning or anger.
Unfocused, she stared through her...
she, um, stared...
He stared through her into the distance.
Sorry about that.
His mouth and tongue held no venom or spite that had all been taken away from once he died.
Now it was her sex releasing his obedient presence, savoring his quiet beauty, generously imparting its own sticky language to his still lips.
She loved to look deep into her lover's eyes.
And, um...
He realized that she felt them obediently nutting her closer to orgasm.
He did not feel her pelvic rhythmic speed up.
He did not feel the airspace between her legs turn to subtropical.
What is...
How does that...
What the hell does that mean?
He did not feel her legs, in between her legs, turn subtropical?
Like, fucking musty and nasty and stank?
Ooh, I never heard that term before.
He did not feel her perineum swell against his chest.
He did not feel her chin.
He did not hear her whispering her lust to him over and over while she clenched her teeth in orgasm.
Oh, yeah.
Where's my dead lover?
And that's the end of that story.
All right, ladies and gentlemen, I hope that you enjoyed Nurse Wendy today fucking her dead lovers.
And I always enjoy telling these fucking stories.
You know, I got a Ouija board story.
But I'm going to take another break.
And when I come back, actually, I'm going to play the rest of this song, actually.
So I'm going to play it a couple times for you guys so you guys can hear it looped over and over again.
And yes, that's me playing the instruments, too.
I only play drums.
I don't play piano and all that other shit.
So I was really trying on this.
So I hope you like it.
Hey We are in a dream Hey Hey Yeah We are in a good life Hey Hey Hey Hey Hey Hey Hey Hey Hey Hey Hey Hey Hey!
I think that someone is trying to kill me Infecting my blood and destroying my mind No man of the past could ever stop me From time to time this curse is a part of the past I am only hell I am only hell One remorseful simple life demands me And a love that doesn't matter I am only stone I am completely immersed in darkness As I turn my body away from the sun I am only hell I am only hell I am only hell I am only hell I am only hell I am only hell What's up ladies and gentlemen and boys and girls I'm back.
Like I said before if you want to holler at me the number here is is 800-893-9562.
I want to know what you think about Nurse Wendy.
And like I said, yeah, the story is real.
It happened at Henry Mayo Hospital.
I was telling my husband, you know, like she likes to, you know, fuck dead men's faces and all this shit and like stick their nose in her vagina.
She would have had a field day if my husband died.
Because, yeah, I like to write on that nose every once in a while too.
I got a double penis.
If I don't use one, I could use the other one on his face.
Just kidding.
I love you, Hammy.
Anyway, so I hope you guys enjoyed that story.
I got a little Ouija board story here that, you know, I love my Ouija board stories and, you know, I love my Ouija board, but I did throw two of them away because one of them freaked out a friend of mine and he ran downstairs and tore it up and threw it away.
Another one, I just threw it away, but now I have one on my iPad.
So anyway, this one, this one is actually called Ouija board returns from the trash.
Now, can you imagine like you throw away a Ouija board and then it reappears?
Well, listen to this story.
When I was younger, my older brother, sister, and me had a board.
We hadn't had it too long.
My older brother had just brought it home.
Thinking it would be fun to mess with, about 10 minutes into asking questions, my mom came in from another room.
Not knowing that we were messing with this board, this Ouija board.
She grabbed the board and said, and now it's in the house.
That was all she said.
The next morning was trash day.
As I was taking the trash out, my mom came out with the board and put it in the trash can.
I watched it until the trash truck came and picked it up.
Yeah, because, you know, they tell you, you know, you have to destroy these Ouija boards.
You have to tear it limb from limb, piece by piece.
Soak it or whatever, or else, you know, the spirits or whatever, they won't go away.
So, okay, so I watched it in trash truck.
Now, that was roughly 26 years ago.
My mom was cleaning out the attic a few years ago.
I get a phone call as I live out of state now.
Asking why I get out of the trash, I asked her what she was talking about.
She said that, damn board.
And instantly, I knew it.
I told her I watched the trash truck pick it up that day a long time ago, but it was there because my brother had put his name on the back of it when we bought it.
I asked if she was sure it was the same board, and she said yes.
His name was on it.
Now, here is the thing.
My brother has been dead for 14 years this past March.
He never cared for it.
It just, he never cared for it.
Just thought of it as a game.
And my mom, a little crazy that night long ago.
I know for sure it went into the trash truck and my mom was sitting close by a window to see it as well.
That board made its way back into my mom's house.
Maybe it was a brother spirit who brought the breezy board back into the house.
Somehow, and sat there this time.
Now, she was since, now she has since burned the board and disposed of the ashes.
Me and my sister to this day do not know how it got back in the house.
We know my brother did not do it.
He wrote it off as a loss and a lesson learned in life as well.
So yeah, that's the story about a Ouija board.
So a lot of Ouija boards, you know, if you don't, like if you don't burn them or you know, you have to tear them apart or whatever, they will make, they're way back.
They will and Pat doesn't believe it, but I've had two Ouija boards in my life.
And so I know a little bit about that.
So hope you guys enjoyed the show today.
I have another Ouija board story here that I'm gonna leave you with.
And then we're gonna say, call it a day.
This one is the beginning depression Ouija board and Lucifer.
And so this has something to do with the devil too.
I know a lot of people don't like to hear Ouija boards, stories and shit, cause they're scared.
But I know if this one is a little long though, so it probably will take me a little longer to read this one.
So anyway, like I said, I hope you guys, you know, enjoyed the show and my Ouija board stories.
I will have more in about another week or so.
I won't be back next week.
I'll be here the week after.
And yeah, so, you know, don't go camping or anything like that.
Actually, when I come back, I'm gonna be telling a story about the camping, camping trip because like I said, these ladies go out and they get, you know, raped or whatever.
And it's a very interesting story, camping story and why I don't fucking do it.
And so right now I'm gonna leave you with a song and then we're gonna close the show.
So no.
So yeah, Jenny, can you hit me up?
Yeah.
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