Zombie But Equal? WZMB Zombie Radio Show Classic Clips – “The Robin Files Part 3″

Zombie but Equal? Absolutely! Jazz Fans, I’m no racist, no matter what the Dutch might say. I marched on Selma, for God’s sake! This was about twenty years after Dr. King marched there, but hey, the principle’s the same. I walked right into the gift shop and demanded rights for the consumers. “Free at last? With these prices? I don’t think so!” I’m staging a boycott of that gift shop to this day! So don’t call me a racist, you dike-fingering bastards.

But I never thought the day would come when zombies would become a civil rights issue. To be frank, I never thought the day would come when zombies existed, but there you go. Zombies exist, and the undead crisis has raised some spooks– I mean, ghosts. The same issues we fought, marched on and defeated are rearing their ugly heads like the zombies that re-animated them. Just check out this video to see what I mean…

When will we be able to put aside the racism that divides us? After all, when zombies spot us, vulnerable and alone on a street corner, trying to hail a taxi cab, do you think they see skin color. No, Jazz Fans! They see a brain delivery system, and any color will do.

In fact, come to think of it, zombies are the only ones out there who aren’t racist– apart from me. Maybe we should start learning from the zombies! Maybe we can look at blacks, browns, yellows, even (shudder!) the Dutch, not as different races, but as nothing more than a sequence of chemicals that we can completely exploit and devour. Maybe then, we can embrace people who are different, if not as brothers and sisters, then at least as meals. Everyone has something to offer, my friends, and it would be rude to refuse these gifts, whether offered voluntarily, or ripped from unyielding skulls.

Metaphorically.

Don’t forget to follow yours truly, Jimmy Rudolph, on Twitter, Facebook and YouTube.

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Zombie-ish Harlem! WZMB Zombie Radio Show Classic Clips! The Robin Files 2

Ah, the good ol’ days. When we thought we had zombies under control! When Harlem was briefly not under quarantine! When the attractive, young Melissa Moline was my producer. Those were the days!

Heyyyy, Jazz Fans, Jimmy Rudolph here, and the other day I was sipping a cappuccino with my good friends Mortie, Perkins and Rajah. Mortie used to be a postman, Perkins was the sommelier at the famous “Phrog’s” on 47th and Broadway, and Rajah was a cabbie. All retired now,  they like to get together and grouse about kids today, compare procedures past and future, and pay the homeless to french kiss them. Sometimes, if my busy schedule allows, I join them, even though I’m still gainfully employed as a famous and influential DJ at WZMB. I like to keep in touch with the common man. Besides, Rajah is loaded, and I have a great business opportunity for him.

Anyway, in between ordering our 4th round of water and splitting the tab, we started reminiscing about the good old days. Now, I’ve never been a back-looker, unless Beyonce is walking by. I firmly believe that my best days are ahead of me, and will keep believing that to my dying day. Which is dumb, I admit. But this latest bull session with the boys got me thinking about last year, and how great things were back then. To see what I mean, just check out this video adaptation of Zombie Radio Show!

Zombies were finally under control. Of course, that turned out to be bullshit. It turns out that the process that tamed zombies was also the process that turned them into ravenous ninja beasts. But for a while there, we were treating zombies like they were our friends, or at least our slaves. Some us even volunteered to become zombies. When those people turned into ravenous ninja beasts, they must have wanted a refund.

Harlem was no longer under quarantine. Even their Screamers were tamed. Our old friend Robin was so upset when the fence came down. Bet she’s happier now, now that the fence is back up and the Screamers are back worse than ever.

And I fondly recall Melissa Moline and her magical switchboard killing powers. She always had a smile for me as she scratched my priceless LPs. Of course, the only reason we had Melissa in the booth was because J-Bo was in jail for killing a zombie, the ones we thought were tame but turned out to be lethal ninja beasts.

You know something– it’s easier to feel good about the past when you’re hanging out with senile old men. The minute you start blogging (and thinking) about it, the luster just disappears. Thanks a lot, WordPress!

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Zombie Harlem Shuffle! WZMB Zombie Radio Show Classic Clip “The Robin File”

When zombies swarmed the city of New York, it was the worst thing imaginable. But in Harlem, is was even worster. Already beset by lackluster job investment, crumbling infrastructure, poor political representation and the Clintons, zombies were the icing on a multi-layered cake– not chocolate frosting, either, but that sugary pale stiff icing that no one wants to eat.

Not only did Harlem get more than its fair share of zombies, Harlem zombies managed to mutate into one of the most lethal types of zombies, “The Screamers”– blind, but with a paralyzing scream that short circuited the motor functions of anyone who heard it, freezing them in place until the groping shamblers could find them.

When New Yorkers are faced with a challenge, they band together like no one else and fight that challenge. But screamer zombies? Come on! We’re not crazy! So we banded together and said “Harlem, you’re on your own!” We quarantined Harlem, surrounding it with electrified concertina wire, and promised the good residents that we would get our kill squads in there at the first opportunity. Three years later, we’re still promising. We will continue to keep Harlem in our thoughts and prayers, even as we keep it out of our line of vision.

Fortunately, we have Robin Sellars, community activist and angry black woman, who calls yours truly now and again and give us an update on what’s happening. Not only does she remind us that Harlem exists, she black-peppers Jimmy with some very important questions; Are zombies a civil rights issue, as well as a survival issue? Can African American advancement be accomplished in the midst of a city-wide emergency? And does Jimmy really call that dancing, because it looks like a chicken being slowly cooked with electric jolts on a rusty spit.  This week, we present some of our favorite “shoutouts from the ‘hood”. Truth to power, Robin! And if you know Eddie Murphy, tell him I’d like to have him on the show.

And if you want to keep up with all the WZMB greats past and present, you can follow Jimmy on Twitter, Facebook and YouTube.

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Zombie Judas! WZMB Zombie Radio Show Ep. 74 Part 3 “Rock n’ Skull”!

Zombie Judas! WZMB Zombie Radio Show Ep. 74 Part 3 “Rock n’ Skull”

It hurts, Jazz Fans. How much sharper than a serpent’s tooth is the bite of a zombie that you thought was your friend?

We really thought things were going to be different this time. We thought after the whole “brain-eating, head chopping” cycle had run its course that we’d be able to find some common cause against a single enemy. The National Guard from Albany seemed tailor-made for out nemesis-tic needs. First of all, they’re from Albany. Secondly, they were outsiders, interlopers, carpetbaggers, invaders. On top of all that, (literally,) they had brains. Here was a group of people that could unite New Yorkers and Zombies in a piercing, consuming hatred. Together, we could wipe them out and meet everyone’s needs. We get rid of our occupying oppressors, and the zombies get a nice meal. It was a win-win, kill-kill, shlurp-shlurp situation.

And for a brief, magic period of time, it was so sweet. We called. The zombies gurgled in response. And we rewarded their feeding frenzy with the one thing that they could never get from us before: love. Unconditional, all encompassing adulation for the service they were rendering to New York, and by extension, the civilized world as well. We made them into pop stars, threw brain-soaked panties up on stage– and that was just me. Some went even farther. J-Bo, who had never lost her head to zombies before, found that she’d lost her heart to one. Sure, they came from different backgrounds. She was a Midwestern girl with a can-do spirit and strong machete bearing wrists. He was a zombie. But J-Bo was prepared to overlook all of his undead faults and forge a life with her new hero.

And now, this.

Who would have thought, jazz fans, who could possibly have imagined, that zombies wouldn’t care whose brains they were eating? Who could have conceived that zombies are not only undead flesh eaters with no soul, but they also are incapable of loyalty?! The highest brain gets the job? Well, you can take your thirty pieces of silver-plated brain and slink off back into the grave from which you came. I’ve always been a peacenik assimilationist, but the next time I see one of you blue-blooded fuckers, I am paying someone to kill you. And if you don’t believe me, you can follow me on Twitter, Facebook and YouTube and see for yourself.

Because no one does J-Bo like that. No one.

 

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Zombie Idol! WZMB Zombie Radio Show Ep. 74-2 “Rock n’ Skull”

Click Here to Listen to WZMB Zombie Radio Show Ep. 74 Part 2!

Zombie Idols– it gives a whole new meaning to the phrase “graven image”, doesn’t it, Jazz Fans?

But since the National Guard has seen fit to invade NYC, and since the foraging parties have proven so brutal, and since zombies eat foraging parties as hungrily as they eat the rest of us, zombies have become everyone’s heroes.  Lovestruck girls put pictures over their beds of the zombies under their beds. Guys dress up in Zombie wear, tearing holes in their jeans and smearing their designer shirts with brains. The Sham Punk clubs are exploding with members. Religious extremists are even offering their own bodies on the altar to zombies, in the hopes that zombies will develop a taste for human flesh that can be used against the National Guard. Personally, I think that horse has left the barn, but whatever. You can lead a horse to martyr– (not sure how to end that one…)

The one person I thought would be immune to all of this zombie worship is J-Bo. She always had a way of seeing the skull beneath the skin of any smiling face, as well as  a talent for getting to the heart of her victims. But here I am in the studio, with J-Bo and her heart throb, Casey, a zomb-boy band singer, and he’s oozing all that magnetism and pus, and her eyes are rolling back in ecstatic bliss, and there’s nothing between them but a thin wall of sound proof glass and me. Kids today! Back in my day, zombies were for killin’, not for kissin’!… And movies were five bucks.

And if you want to see what else was going on in my day, you can follow me on Twitter, Facebook and subscribe to my YouTube Channel. If you’re not too busy running after zombies.

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Happy New Year! From Zombie Radio Show!

Heyyyy. Jazz Fans! Here we are again. Another New Year coming at us, with the same inevitable ferocity as a pack of zombies! Here’s hoping that it’ll be better than last year. If not better, then at least shorter. And not shorter in that “A Zombie killed me on January 2nd” way.

Here’s me and J-Bo at Times Square. Our apologies to the family of Dick Clark. Again. Have a great New Year. And remember, don’t drink and drive– unless it’s really fast. You’ll mow down more zombies that way.

Happy New Year from WZMB Zombie Radio Show!

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A Christmas Slay

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all ’round the block, the Zombies were shambling in a necrotic flock.

Normally, I was safe in my hi-rise coop; But some asshole had spilled some brains on the front stoop.

So instead of some Jazz and a champagne split, I popped Xanax and laid out the suicide kit.

When just outside, there arose such a clatter, and my window got suddenly smeared with grey matter.

I cranked open the panes, and what I then saw gave me Holiday wonder, and Christmas nausea.

For down on the street was an elf with a blade, killing every last zombie that Satan had made.

Her machete so gory in the blood-covered snow, I knew in an inkling it must be J-Bo.

She was covered in red from her tits to her toes, as zombies fell spasming in their death throes.

Her eyes how they twinkled, the zombies a’swarming, zombie heads a’flying, a small mountain forming.

The bran hungry fiends converged in a pile, and avalanched J-Bo, who spun with a smile…

Obscured for a moment, her small form unseen… then the writhing zombie volcano erupted in green!

And faster than zombies could ask for a brain, she slew them all, zombie skulls falling like rain.

A roll of her shoulders and a shake of her head, and I knew right away all the zombies were dead.

J-Bo spotted my window. As I raised up my hand, she shouted “Where’s my Christmas bonus, old man?!”

“I have it right here! A bargain’s a bargain!” I said, and threw out a fruitcake on her noggin.

Now Christmas bells ring, and my doorbell rings, too. I know that she’s out there, the ungrateful shrew.

When she gets bored and leaves, I’ll say with delight–

Happy Jazz-Mass to all, and to all a Good Night!

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Zombie Hits! WZMB Zombie Radio Show Ep. 74 Part 1, “Rock n’ Skull”

Zombie Hits! WZMB Zombie Radio Show Ep. 74 Part 1 “Rock n’ Skull”

Zombie Hits– not what it used to mean, Jazz Fans! Used to be, a zombie hit was taking off a zombie head.  Now, zombies are pop stars? Gurgling into the brain-0covered mic, with beats and riffs laid down in the back ground, until the inevitable gob erupts from his throat and covers the mic, and that’s the number one single on the charts? That’s the best selling song of all time, behind “Let it Be” and “White Christmas”? But what can you do? The kids seem to like it. And millions of screaming adolescent girls can’t be wrong.

Some of you have called in and complained about our new “Rock n’ Skull” format. Four of you, in fact, if we count the telemarketer. But I’m an entertainer, folks. Not a taste maker. I may prefer the long improvisational sessions of Miles Davis and Charlie Parker, but that doesn’t mean I get to cram them down the throats of my audience. Nope, I go where the zeitgeist flows. I can see the smeared brain on the wall,  and it looks kinda like this…

Sometimes the lure of jazz takes me over, and I try to sneak in a little jazz– maybe throw on some Tom Waits and pretend that it’s Zombie Jazz, the latest thing. But J-Bo won’t have it. She’s like a kid again, playing all the Zombie Rock she can get her hands on. Last week, she played the same song by Casey and the Brain Child over and over again twenty times, and she kept bursting into tears at the same moment in the song. It was just another gurgle, like all the other gurgles throughout the song. I could understand if there were a key change or something, but no. And the most fantastic part– that hour gave us our best numbers to date!

I’m no fan of this music, folks, but I’m gonna ride the wave. When it passes, as all trends must, we’ll sweep out all the water with the squee-gee of …jazz! Because there’s nothing trendy about jazz.

And if you want to lock onto the hottest trend there is, follow yours truly on Twitter, Facebook and Youtube.

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New Zombies on the Block! Zombie Radio Show Ep. 73 Part 3 “Zombie Liberation”

Click Here to Listen to WZMB Zombie Radio Show Ep. 73 Part 3!

New Zombies on the Block, and these Ghouls of Cool will steal your hearts, blow your minds and eat the rest! Yes, fans, I’m here to report on the latest sensation, the Zom-Boy Band “Brain Child”!

First, there’s Terry. Born in Brooklyn, killed in Staten Island, and reborn in the sludge by the East River, Terry was a precocious youngster. A brainy child, he soon mutated into a brain-loving monster. The girls all go crazy for his dimples, which you can see when he opens his cupid mouth to sing, or eat someone, even through the caked-on blood. But you can see the intelligence behind the milky caul of his eyes, and it’s that intelligence that has brought Brain Child to the top of the music industry, as well as many a scalp.

Perry can’t remember when he started dancing– probably because his brain’s memory section has been devoured– but it must have been early, because Perry has the moves that prove zombies can groove! His secret? Just before each performance, Agent/Manager Frankie Spitake wedges his damp hand into a 15,000 volt spotlight. His spasmodic gyrations have created crazes all over the world, with “The Exploding Jumping Bean” becoming its own hit single. Girls like to get close to the stage, in case bits of Perry should fly off. But don’t worry, girls– there’s plenty of Perry to go around!

And then, there’s Casey! The mere mention of his name sends women into a mindless panic, making eating their brains superfluous. His milky white skin, shimmering with waxen dreaminess, seems flawless– even the decomposing pus feels like silk, and the worms that crawl through his wounds are objects of envy for many a lovestruck fan. His desiccated vocal cords have been insured by Harrod’s, and the trademark gutteral croak has been called “Heaven’s Undead Choir.”

Sure, you may say, they’re just another Zom-Boy Band. The hype was huge around The HeartStoppers, and Oozers. But ask any fan, and they’ll tell you that Brain Child is different, and are sure to still be around long after the flesh has fallen from their skin. Which is technically true, but I think they were talking about the music.

And if you want to talk more about the music, tune Jimmy in on Twitter, Facebook and YouTube!

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Zombie in the Chimney! A WZMB Christmas Classic!

A Zombie in the Chimney can be a frequent problem for many of our listeners. Today, I’ve asked J-Bo to give people tips on how to extricate a zombie from your flue, without getting any grue on you. Oh, and for those of you without chimneys or zombies within them, here’s a little Christmas Cheer from Zombie Radio Show! A never before seen video adaptation of a holiday classic! Enjoy!

Hey, Zans. J-Bo here. Okay, uh… Zombies in the chimney. First thing you absolutely must do is make sure it’s a zombie up there. Nothing is worse than dripping acid down your chute, marring all that brick work you spent so much money on, only to find out what you thought was a zombie in the chimney was pathetic Uncle Lars, trying to impress the kids and prove to his wife that the Adkins worked. As if that weren’t bad enough, you’re technically a murderer, so, there’s that. Just make sure it’s a zombie.

So, drop some brains down the chimney. If you hear the sounds of shlurping and chomping, it’s a zombie. If you hear someone shouting “Stop throwing brains on me and call the fire department!”, it’s probably not a zombie. Still, to make sure, give a little jab with the machete and see what color blood comes out. If it’s blue, that’s a zombie. If it’s red, it’s just an idiot. Leave him there and enjoy your Christmas.

Now, say you’ve got a zombie up there. The first step is preventative. Remove all Yule logs in the fire place, and substitute the trash compactor. Turn it on. Keep it on. Face it- that zombies not gaining weight up in there, and the chances that he’ll slip increase every minute. If that happens, the rotating blades of your disposal are the perfect welcome. Of course, they’re a hazard if you have any kids at home, but having a flesh processor in the living room gives your kids the cautionary skills they’ll need to survive. As for the noise, you don’t need to hear that lousy Perry Como CD again. Trust me.

Next, attach a large rubber sphincter to the mouth of your chimney. Do this carefully, so as not to fall into the disposal. Chances are the zombie will have crawled in head first. So you want the opening of the sphincter to be wide enough to accomodate a standard size human head, but small enough to stop anything wider– like shoulders. Next, go up to the roof and pour a little grease down the chimney. Not too much, or he’ll slip through the sphincter, but enough so he’ll slip down the chimney.

If all goes well, and you’ve listened carefully to my instructions, the zombie should be caught in the sphincter, with only the head showing. Turn off you disposal, chop off the zombies head, and throw it at carolers. Then simply cinch up the rubber sphincter, turning it into a garbage bag. Dump the zombie body. Replace the disposal. Light the Yule log and party down.

Who asked you to have a fucking chimney anyway?!

 

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