The Harland Highway - 810 - Harland on morning radio. A caller sues all TRANSGENDERS. GARDEN HOSE STORY Part 6

Episode Date: October 17, 2016

An irate caller wants to file a lawsuit against all transgenders. Harland on morning radio. Part 6 of Harland's short story. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Hey, hey, my, my, hope my podcast will never die. It won't die. As long as I have you guys listening, it'll live forever. Welcome to the Harlan Highway podcast. I'm Harlem Williams, and you are the pavement pounders. Great show today. We have a wild call coming in from a man who calls the show. now and then. I think he's from Middle Eastern descent. I'm not sure from where. Mr. Fazi Stod is calling in,

and apparently he's threatening to file a lawsuit against all transgendered people. I can't wait to hear what he has to say about this. Pretty bizarre. Also, I'm going to share some more of my time on the radio. You're going to hear what it sounds like to join me on my morning press junkets when I'm on the radio station so that should be a lot of fun also some letters and some phone calls from you the pavement pounders and and at the end of the show uh part six part six of my my very long short story the garden hose time machine uh i hope you've been following along hope you enjoy it here we go this is the Harland Highway What are I?

What is this? Some kind of a joke or something? Welcome to the Harland Highway. What are you talking about words? Son, you got a panty on your head. Shut up and sit down, you big ball fuck. Oh God, what's happening here? What's happened?

Hey, Harland, it shall leave. You just made a wrong turn. On to the Harland Highway. We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other thing. Not because they are easy, but because They are hard. That is fantastic. What's wrong with everybody in this crazy place?

The Harland Highway. What is it? The opening. To what? To another dimension. This is Harland Williams. You're a bad man. You're a very bad man.

That is fantastic. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh, my God. Oh. I wanted to play some more of you.

the other day I took you through, you know, one of the pavement pounders had written to me and said, hey, you know, I heard you on the radio in a certain city, and it was really funny, and how can I hear more? And just by coincidence, I had been in a radio station in Pittsburgh, a great radio station, great guys. And I decided to kind of record my morning interview with them because in that moment I come up with stuff on the spot and a lot of times we have really big laughs and I'm creating material in the moment. And I was like, man, it's kind of a bummer

than only one marketplace, one city gets to kind of hear this fun stuff. So I thought I'd record it and then I could, you know, play little samples of it for you guys so that you can, A, hear what it's like for me to be on tour and going in and visiting these radio stations and what I kind of have to do. And I thought it would also be fun for you guys just to enjoy the comedy that comes out of the conversation.

So once again, here's a little snippet. This is me a few weeks ago in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and we're just talking about getting ready for all the holidays. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, all that fun stuff. It's like a little 10-minute segment, and I hope you guys enjoy it. Here it is. Sometimes you don't want to know how the sausage is made. Easy, easy, that's what she said.

21% say wait till Halloween to put out the Christmas decorations. 52% say Thanksgiving. 12% want them to wait until mid-December. I mean, who are these people? Kind of. The survey also found about 1 million Americans are already done with their Christmas shopping. That's annoying. That takes the fun.

The pressure of not having a gift is really what's fun about the Christmas season, isn't it? It's a battle against the clock. You're going out and you're going, you know, you've got to race in with everybody else and you're getting last-minute stuff and you've got to fight for the slippers. I've only gone Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve once. You do get some good deals. On Christmas Eve? Yeah. You get some real good deal.

When do you decorate your house for Christmas, though? Usually the weekend after Thanksgiving. Wow. You can say it however you want. I'm sorry, go. Have you ever had a holiday just get past you? And you're like, I didn't put anything out. Oh, yeah.

Yeah, that sucks. Yeah, I feel so lonely and cold. Cold. What's annoying to me is Halloween when these kids come to your house, like strangers on your lawn. You know, you get a kid at your door like Spider-Man and Wonder Woman. And, you know, their parents are standing at the end of your driveway, just with their arms crossed glaring at you.

making sure you give them something good. Judging your candy distribution, yeah. So this year I got a sure fire way, and some of your listeners might want this to just make sure the kids get the hell off your property. This year I'm giving out chocolate bars, but I made my own. I made my own.

They're called Allah Allah Akbar. When they come to my door, I just go, Allah al-Aqbar. Territ to like, ISIS, run. Ron, get the children, Ron. La la, la, Akbar! Oh, well, yeah, you can strap the Halloween bag to your chest there. That's right.

Throw the Al-A-A-A-A-A-Barrs out of. She could. It's the Ali Akbar bomber. Christmas is, you know, we had this tradition in my family where you put the... You ever do this thing where you get the needle and thread and you put it through the popcorn? On the corn strings. Yeah. And my parents were such...

dumb asses, they didn't pop at first? I can't tell you how many needles I've put through my fingers in a kid. Unreal. Yeah, you got to pop it first. It's very easier. And they wouldn't put ornaments on. My mother would get like, you know, you've wrapped leftovers in tinfoil.

So we'd put like lasagna, chicken breast, meatloaf. Yeah, and my mom would plug it in. It would heat up. Our house at Christmas would like the Golden Corral. Yeah, unbelievable. We got a strong tree to hold that stuff off. Oh, yeah, yeah.

We bought our tree at Weight Watchers. It's a festive tree. Hey, all right, okay, okay, all right. Well, I think the only reason I wanted to do the story is because when I read it in my head, I thought Ned Beatty. You got pretty lips, boy. Warren Beatty and since the rumors he's slept with more than 12,000 women are greatly

exaggerating. You thought that was Ned Bainer. So I read it in my head of Frank Ed Bady. No, Ned Bady did bang that many. Yeah, he actually, he racked up 12, please. Wow. Just while they were filming network. Yeah. The 79-year-old actor and director was interviewed by AARP, the magazine, and said that while he was a bachelor

until the age of about 54, he enjoyed everything that comes with the territory. But he said, says that number is way too high. The rumor he slept with 12,775 women started in 2010 with author Peter Biscan's biography on the actor titled Star. Baby says, think about it. Sleeping with 12,775 people, that would mean not just there were multiple people a day, but there was no repetition. Yeah. Bady did not give a more accurate figure, but says it's much less than 12,000.

This dramatically shifts my understanding of the content of AARP, the MAPRP, the MAP. magazine. I thought that was just about Werther's originals and how not to pay as much for stuff. That's racy content. Arp, I like that.

AARP, the magazine. Like, Chance the Rapper or Magic the Gathering. Arp. Arp. We sound like bullfrogs in the swamp. Let's all do them back and forth for like

five seconds. Ready? Arp. Arp. Arp. Arp. Arp. Arp.

Arp. Is that how the beatings start getting? I think we just did a maiden call, yeah. There's going to be a bunch of old people that are going to bust in the studio. Forecasts, a lot of, and crazy, and cool, a chance of rain, temperature, to the upper 16th, it's 46 at DBA. Harlew. William is at the improb you should go see here.

4-12, 4-6-2-3 is the number of call to get tickets for Harlan shows at the waterfront. Go ahead to impot.com and get them online. It's so good to see you, friend. Oh, what a delight. A tasty whipped cream delight. We were one of our favorite DVD comedy festival headliners, Harlan Williams. Oh, there you go.

So much fun. So much fun. Hope you like that. Gives you a little insight into part of my job that probably you're not that privy to. You know, you just think, oh, this guy goes on stage and does stand-up comedy. But there's a lot of work that goes into it, and that's part of it. Like I said in the last podcast, we have to get up early in the morning. And sometimes, you know, you'll be up at 5.36 in the morning,

and you'll jump from radio station to radio station, from radio station to TV station. You do the morning news. Sometimes you're not done until, like, noon. You're doing a full, you know, full press junket. And then a lot of times, most times, believe it or not, you go in Wednesday night, you do this Thursday morning, and then they wake you up and you do it again on Friday morning. So you really kind of get the word out that you're in town for the weekend playing these comedy venues. And it's like I said, it's not always easy being funny guy when you're still half asleep. But it's part of the job.

It's an important part of the job because it really, believe it or not, radio is still a very, very powerful tool for raising awareness about your shows and your presence in a given market, not to be so technical. You know, that's the thing about stand-up comedy and show business. There's a technical side to it. You know, it's show and it's business. And you've got to kind of marry the two of them together. And the business side can be fun on some levels, but on other levels it can be arduous and

it can be taxing and it can be a lot of work. But you know what? What isn't a lot of work in life, right? That's what we do. We put in our work. Hey, everybody, who wants to have better sex? No? Yes. Yes. The answer is yes. You always want to have better sex. That's what you want it to be better, not worse, trust me. And Adam and Eve is offering 50% off just about any item plus free shipping. And more than that, Adam and Eve wants to make your life easy. They offer discrete shipping as your privacy is a priority, plus 100% free shipping on your entire order. Doesn't matter how much you spend or what you buy, I will be packaged and sent discreetly for free and fast. Don't wait, Better Sex is just a click away. That's 50% off, one item, and free shipping. Bring more pleasure

and satisfaction into your bedroom. Just go to Adam and Eve.com and select any one item. It could be an adventurous new toy or anything you desire. Just enter the offer code Harlan to check out. That's Harland, H-A-R-L-A-N-D at Adam and Eve.com. This is an exclusive offer specific to this podcast. So be sure to use this code Harland so you get your discount and 100% free shipping code Harland. Have fun. Don't throw your back out. And so what? Oh, hold on. Hold on. Yeah. Fazistad? What's he calling about? Hold on. Hold on. Sorry, gang. I got Roger yelling at me through the, in my headphones here, through the window in the, in the producer.

He wants to talk about transgenders. He's a lawsuit. Okay, well, this sounds interesting. It's probably timely. I mean, transgender stuff is kind of on everyone's radar right now. I'm not sure exactly what he's getting at, but Mr. Fazi Stod is a man that's called into the show before. And, uh, okay, put him through.

true, man. Let's talk to Mr. Fossistan. Hello, are you there, sir? Hello, Mr. Fossistan. Are you there, sir? Hello. Mr. Fossistan? Hello, Mr. Rueh. Yes, sir. How are you today? I am good, Mr. Williams. Mr. Williams? Is that what you're saying? Yes. Hello, Mr. Williams. Okay, how are you, sir? I got a note from our producer that you were upset about something dealing with the transgender movement or situation. Yes, Mr. Williams, I'm suing all our transgender areas.

Pardon me, sir? I am filing a lawsuit against all transgender areas. Are you saying trans genders? That's right, Mr. Williams. Transgender, yes. I'm filing a major lawsuit against transgenderists. Why would you file a lawsuit against all transgenders? Mr. Williams, I believe that transgenderis should have to declare that transgenderis before they go and date a people who do not know that they are a transgender.

Sir, it's just, it's transgender. I think you're, I think your enunciation, you're dragging it out a little long. Mr. William, they're this section of society, they're not allowed to deceive people who are of a straight sexual orientation. The transgenderas must disclose before they go on a date with somebody who is a heterosexual and explain to them that at one time they were another, you know, how do you say? Gender? Yes, there were another gender. Okay, well, I'm not sure you can sue people to say that they used to be something, and now they're different, I mean, and why would you want to anyways? Well, let me give you a situation, Mr. Ruehler.

Okay. Let's say hypothetically, okay? Yes. That perhaps somebody went on the Twitter or the, the, uh, the, the, uh, the, the, the, the, the, the, the, the, the, what do you call the, the, the, the dating app? Tinder? Oh, yeah, Mr. William, the Tinder, what if you went on the one of the dating app, like, Kidario, or the Bambles, or whatever, and you see a beautiful woman named Charlene, let's say, just, let me just throw that name out. in the sky, Mr. Williams.

Okay, you're on Tinder and you see a beautiful picture and a profile for a girl, Charlene, okay. And, of course, you swipe and you match with Charlene, beautiful breasts, curvy, buttocks, slender, very nice, facial, a feature, er, y, r, r, ar, y, ar, y, ar, did you just say facial features? That is correct, Mr. Rewa. I'm going to see you. It's Williams, Fazi starred. And then, of course, you go on the date, and of course, you go to the movie with Charlene. You enjoy some caramel corn at the movie theater. You have a spicy hot dog at a movie theater. Of course, you have some delicious caramel.

Corn. You already said caramel corn. Well, I'm just saying it's hypothetical. It's not as if this really happened to anyone or even happen to me, for example. Okay. And so you're at the movie theater with Charlene, and you have caramel corn. Sir, we get the caramel corn. And you start holding hands.

through the movie, and then you get out to the car after the movie. You start with some light kissing on the neck and up to the forehead. Eventually, Mr. Williams, you are kissing passionately on the mouth. Let's say not me, for example, but hypothetically somebody is kissing Charlene on the mouth and their tongues become intertwined and their, they're, they're spit exchanging in your mouth, and you can almost take your tongue and pluck the caramel kernel out of the back of Charlene's molar. What, pluck, you're using your tongue to take the caramel corn kernel out of the back of Charlene's

tongue, and Mueller? No, Mr. William, I said hypothetically if somebody, not a me, but if somebody have a very regular as to be in this predicament. Okay. And then, of course, you know, you realize that you have a connection with this Charlene, and you take her home and you drop her off, and you go up to, you know,

she invites you in for a night cap. A night cap, yes. And all of a son, you're in a living room, and the alcohol starts to, you know, get both of you carried away, and Charlene, of course, is looking so beautiful, Mr. Ruehlalliams. Okay, I get it. This sounds like common procedure for these dating apps.

And the next thing you'll know, Mr. Williams, you're both naked, you're covered in olive oil or in this hypothetical situation. There was no olive oil, so we, I mean, the hypothetical people, Charlene and whoever she's with sprayed each other with Pam cooking spray you what Pam cooking spray

Mr. Ruelly arms Oh let me get that area Okay I get it Fazi Stod You were spraying Somebody was spraying each other With Pam cooking spray oil Yes, that's correct. Somebody, Mr. Williams. Not me.

Okay, we get it. It's a hypothetical. Yes, just to be clear. And next thing you know, you're sliding all over each other's bodies. You're slippery like a couple of electric eels in a pottery bond vase. You're oily. You're like Richard Simmons' body when he steps out of the shower, Mr. Williams. get it. You were oiled. Someone was oily. Yes, not me, Mr. Williams. Hypothetically. Yes, okay.

And next sort of thing, you're laying on the IKEA carpet on the floor. Charlene's head is resting against the IKEA coffee table, and you're deeply engaged in a sexual interracuracy. What? Sexual intercourse That's right Deep penetrating Pam cooking spray

Covered IKEA Carpet coffee table Sexual Eleanor Interacta Sexual intercourse With Charlene Okay and so

And then of course You go home You're satisfied You've got a big smile on your face, you decide, oh, I really like this sexual intercourse with Charlene. Maybe I look deeper into her profile. I look her up on the Google, I look her up on the Facebook, I look her up on the Twitter. Did you just say Google, Facebook, and Twitter?

Yes, Mr. Williams, yeah. And of course, I think, I mean, somebody who could. could dig deeper, and the next thing you know, you'll find out Charlene is actually Charlie. Wait, what? Charlene used to be Charlie. Are you okay, sir? Yes, I just felt a little noxious there. Why would you feel noxious?

Well, I'm just thinking if the hypothetical person found out that, you know, he was making a love on an IKEA carpet with Pam cooking spray to what he thought was a beautiful, voluptuous woman named Charlene, and it turns out a year earlier, Charlene was Charlie with a giant plump, a penis, and robust testicles. I think that would be enough to make anyone vomit. Wait a minute. Wait a minute here. So the lawsuit boils down to if somebody has consummated a relationship, yes, Mr. Williams, consumated a relationship, had sexual intercourse with what they perceived to be a beautiful woman, but turned out that that person had a sex change, it became transgendered, or was transgendered.

And a year before that, it was a man named Charlie, but now as a woman named Charlene, you feel that that person should be liable for what, sir? Obviously, for fraud, okay, for misrepresentation, for turning a heterosexual man, They're a homosexual? Wait a minute. No, whoa, are you saying that...

Okay, now this is getting complicated. Are you saying that if a... If a straight man makes love to a woman that used to be a man, it makes him a homosexual? No, not me, Mr. Williams, but hypothetically. Wait a minute. This is starting to sound a lot. Why would you be so interested in this?

What have you got in this here? And by the way, sounds a little homophobic, sir. Well, I don't know. Of course, I just care about people, Mr. Williams. I am not the type of you think I would not know if I slept with a woman who three a year earlier was a full-grown man with a dangling penis and very robust, round, jiggly testicles, Mr. Rwarneliams? Sir, I'm just going to, I'm going to cut right to the chase here.

Yes, Mr. Ravreams. Did you have sex with Charlene, who used to be Charlie or Charles? Mr. Fossistan? Sir, are you there, sir? Can you answer the question, Mr. Fazi's thought? Of course it wasn't the mayor, Mr. Williams. Are you telling me something? No, no, I'm not telling you something, but you seem very upset about this,

and it seems like for a guy who never had this happen to him, you're going out of your way to create a lawsuit against transgenders because it just seems like maybe you're the guy that you're talking about. I'm not the guy that slept under with Charlie. I did not have sex with Charlie. I had sex with Charlene. Wait a minute. What did you just say?

Nothing. I said nothing, Mr. Williams. I have to go. I have to go now. I have to, a whole carton of Listerine just came to my house from Amazon.com. A whole carton of Listerine. Why? I got to go, Mr. O'William to goodbye.

Wait a minute. I want to talk about this lawsuit. Wait, what? Hold on. The, what the hell? Roger, did he hang up on us? Are you kidding? I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I think he was the guy.

I really think I think that happened to him he wow that is interesting I am suspicious that he met a haughty on Tinder went out on a wild date had wild sex it sounds like and then after snooping around on the internet found out that Charlene used to be a guy named Charlie

and he's freaking he's freaking out and uh whoa okay but didn't it it sounded like he roger didn't it sound like to you that he was making it seem like it wasn't him he kept saying a hypothetical you know i i don't know if it was him or it wasn't he got pretty upset and he hung up but but it that isn't you know i got to say that's an interesting call i don't know if it's something that goes to the courts and it's a thing that can see any legal action, but it's, you know, it brings up an interesting question. Should a man or a woman who has changed their gender have to disclose that before they engage in sexual activity? Hmm, that, you know, how would any of you feel if that was you?

You know, maybe we should try and get him back on another show. We're running out of time here now, Roger, but I think that conversation needs to continue. That's a very interesting question. That is a very, very interesting question. Do you think it was him, Roger? Roger's shaking his head. Roger's holding up a sign 100%.

Now, Roger's holding up a sign Fossi Stod plowed Charlie. Oh, come on. Grow up, dude. Fossey Stod plowed Charlie. What now what are you holding up? Charlie's anales? What is that supposed to me? Like Charlie's Angels?

Come on, grow up, Roger. Charlie's anales. What a goofball, man. All right, let's put this behind us. Maybe we'll try and further this conversation with Mr. Fossey Stod down the road. Let's play some phone calls, will you? Roger? Good Lord.

Hello? Hello. Hey, Arlington. This is your good buddy, Jeff, from Tulsa, Oklahoma. You need to come by and see us sometimes. But I think your story, the water hose time machine, is I'm really surprised how good it is and how well-versed you are. you are. It's really well written.

You describe it's almost like Hemingway. Like you describe things very well. So I would love to hear any more of your stories that you got. And

anyway, thanks for all the laps and I hope you get to make Rocket Van 2 sometime. But anyway, well, that's it. Chicken chal mane. Oh, my God, Jeff, you just sent to shiver up my spine, man. Like, to even put me in the same sentence as Hemingway is not worthy, but I thank you. I thank you for such a high, high compliment.

Boy, oh, boy, man. Hey, thank you for your feedback on my story. A bunch of you pavement pounders have written in and called in. And I really wanted to, you know, get a temperature on how you guys felt about, me reading one of my short stories to you guys and I also asked you to be very honest with your critiques, your criticism, your praise, anywhere in between. And it was basically just to kind of gauge if I should keep going with this kind of material or if you guys are like, nah, it's not really your thing or we find it long and boring. And so I'm starting to play and read some of your

letters and voicemails and uh i just i don't know how to thank you enough for taking the time to you know reach out and and uh you know communicate your feelings about it uh it definitely is encouraging for me to hear uh such high praise and such kind words and that you uh you know the things you you felt that that came to you from my story and that you like the the way I'm writing and the way my use of words and so on, that means a lot to me. And I really am

flattered and humbled by your critique. And I must say I'm also humbled and honored and flattered by any critique that is the other way. Any type of criticism is just as valid and welcome because I find that I

am encouraged and I learn from from positive feedback, but I also am encouraged and learn from negative feedback, too. So anything you guys want to say about the story just kind of gives me information on whether I should continue or, you know, if you enjoy it. So thank you again for that wonderful, I mean, Hemingway, are you kidding me? If I could ever get to that point someday, by God, that would be pretty intense. Let's listen to another call here. Thank you, thank you so much for that wonderful phone call.

Hey, O'Harland, this is Jake from Rochester, New York. I just want to let you know I'm loving being a newly pavement pounder premium style. Fucking great. Anyways, I just want to tell you that short story stuff. The first few segments, I was little about it. but I listen to it in bits, but four and five, man, I'm starting to love it. Great.

Also, that radio show segment you did, I thought was one of the funniest things you've done. It's hilarious, dude. Give me some more of that. Fucking awesome. I don't know what that was. I was freaking listening too much corn and slip knot,

I guess. But no, I just love the stuff when you're in contact with people. I think you're at your funniest. It's hilarious. Whether you're doing stand-up, which I can't wait to see you doing that whenever you're nearby, but

please do more of that radio show stuff. That stuff is great. Anyways, chicken jam-main, baby? Awesome. Jake, thank you so much. Again, it sounds like, you see, I like that feedback. When you first started hearing the story, it sounded like you're like

eh, and then it kind of grew on you. And that's kind of by design. Like I kind of, you know, I kind of wanted to release little segments of the story because I know as the guy that wrote it, that as the story goes along, it gets deeper and deeper and stronger and stronger into this guy's life and what he's going through. And I was really hoping that it would kind of hook you guys.

Like, you'd hear a little bit and go, okay, I'm sort of, I guess it's sort of interesting. but then all of a sudden in the next segment, something a little more powerful happens and then so on and so on. And so as we build to the end here, I'm hoping you guys will like how this story kind of climbs and ascends to a kind of, hopefully an unexpected ending

and kind of, you know, we'll see. I won't say anything else. But thank you so much for your feedback as well. Fantastic. And you know what? I think I'll do one more. Let's read a letter, because I want to make sure I get to the people that write into me. Let's read a letter and then, oh, and by the way, I'm glad you liked the radio stuff.

And as you heard in today's podcast, I laid some more down for you. And I think I'll, you know, since you guys seem to like it, I'll lay down a little more, too, in future podcasts. But let's just read one letter about the short story before we actually throw. to part six of the Garden Hose Time Machine short story. Here's the letter. All right, so let's see here. I've got an email. Don't you love the way I have emails that are actually made out of paper?

I have an email here from Steve Cole who wrote to me, and the headline is The Waterhose Story. He says, hi, Harlem. My name is Steve, big fan, long time, and I just wanted to give you some feedback on your stuff. story. First off, I want to say that the story is surprisingly touching. I'd go so far as to call it poignant even. I've always thought you were a cool dude with a big heart, and what you've written here and shared with us really shows that. Oh, thank you, Stephen. I appreciate that.

Steve goes on to say, now, I want to ding you on a few things. Good. I like, this is what I asked for, right? I wanted you guys to, you know, tell me things. Steve says, in the segment release this week, I listened to all of them today while delivering flowers, if that gives you any additional perspective on my opinion. All right, good, a flower delivery person. At one point in the story, your narrator addressed the audience as you. I can't remember exactly what you said, but it was in regards to cockroaches and the lights being turned on. Do you remember that line?

Yes, I do actually. Thank you. Take a look at it, and I think you'll find it's much. better if you don't address the reader or the audience, as it were. This line in particular made me wonder who is telling the story, and it jarred me from the experience. Surely you understand what I'm saying. Yes, thank you. See, that is a beautiful piece of constructive criticism, and that's an important thing

for me to note. Thank you. I should also add that, you know, like a dumbass, I did not go back and proofread this story. I don't even think I did the spelling auto correct yet. I was just so excited to get it out to you guys. I did not go back and edit this story. This is kind of like a first pass.

I just dropped this stuff down and out it came. So hopefully that would have been something I caught had I taken the time to edit and proofread my own work, but I was just fired up. Okay, let's continue with Steve's letter. He says, also the main character's childhood friend Tommy, he drops a few too many fucks, and he's a little too into the tits. If you could give him a separate hook, that might make him more likable.

I do like him, though, and I really like that he has undergone many changes since our main character was in contact with them. People do get fat and unhealthy, and it's weird, and it's sad, and it's upsetting. Great point there, Steve. But, you know, it's funny. when I write these characters, I write them as if they're real. You know what I mean? Like, if he rubs you the wrong way and he's maybe a little unlikable, then that's what he's supposed to be. But when their voices come to me and the voices that this guy says fuck a bit too much

or he's obsessed with girls' tits, that's who he is. And I can't not make him that because I can't sit there and go, oh, I hope my readers don't get turned off by this, or I hope my readers don't like this guy. Like, I have to put, and I hope you understand this, I have to put the characters out as real as I imagine them. And even I don't like using that salty language. I don't like writing fuck.

And even when I'm writing, I'm like, oh, this guy's a bit too. But when I'm writing and he gets into my head, it's like, this is who he is. It's as if I'm him. and I imagine everything about his personality, and that's just the way he talks. Like, think about your own life if there's someone in your life, an uncle or a friend or someone who swears too much or is a bit too salty, and that's this guy. And as much as I appreciate the note to change him, I simply can't because that's who he is. That would be like if he was a real person, and you said that, I'd have to go on the

operating table, cut his brain open, and try and remove his swear function and his obsession with big tits. I can't alter him. I hope that makes sense. But thank you for the wonderful note. Sometimes it's painful to write characters that aren't as likable or have these kind of traits because you're like, oh, God, I wouldn't want to be around a guy like that in real life. But this is the reality of this world that's been created. Let's finish up your letter here. You say, That's it. Overall, I think it's truly wonderful. Well, thank you. It was a very engaging surprise that made my day. Your writing is not bad at all. It is really good, actually. Thank you so much. Man, that just encourages me even more. One last piece of advice I might have for you. If an adjective comes through without placing it in the line, i.e. the hose, blank, sprayed everywhere, you might want to leave it out. Again, over. overall truly wonderful. I just fucking love this story. It's real and it's emotional and it's talking about real things that people actually deal with. I love the small changes that the main character

has undergone already. I came and told my soon-to-be wife that I'm going to have to give you money because you're just fucking awesome. Well, hey, you know what? You can fund my first novel. How about that? No, I listen. Part of the joy of this is giving this to you guys as just, you know, as you said, you're getting something out of it and that is good enough for me. You know, maybe one day I'll sell these stories online digitally or I'll put them together in a book and, you know, I'm not opposed to making money on them, but I'm also totally not opposed to sharing them for nothing with people too. And I'm glad that it's stimulating you and you're really enjoying it. That means the world to me.

Lastly, Stephen says, hey, if you have a really, really sharp memory, I'm that guy in Kansas City who laughed really hard at you talking about eating onion rings with your eyelids. Great fucking work, Harlan. See, look, you swear, you're no better than Tommy. That you are Tommy. You said the F word right at the end. I hope you're not into tits too, Steve.

No, that's great, dude. Thank you for the... I'm not sure I remember you laughing at the Onion Rings joke because I do so many shows. And I remember the moment that I said something dumb. And I think I sort of remember you, but I'm not 100%. But aside from that, I love your feedback, the praise and the criticism and not even criticism, really, just like kind of good advice. And that's very meaningful, too.

I'm going to watch out for the things you noted. You just helped me become a better writer. Thank you, Steve. And thanks to all of you. And now, without further delay, let's get into, this story is heating up. So let's get into part six of the Garden Hose Time Machine short story. And as our previous caller said, you know,

the people who are premium members get to hear this story before everyone else does. So they got to jump on the story and we'll hear the end of the story before you regular listeners do. So if you want to become a premium member, that's just one of the perks. Thanks to all of you.

Here we go. Part six of the Garden Hose Time Machine. Enjoy. It was night time. Tommy's hair was messed up as the station wagon rolled to a stop in front of Brett's childhood home. They were both still in their prom clothes. That was fucking epic, Tommy gasped. Fucking Tanya Reese can make out like a fucking fire-breathing dragon, bro.

Ha ha! You stud, Brett mocked. Wow, just fucking epic. so horny. Tommy punched the steering wheel with excitement. What about you, buddy? Looking pretty tight with Sherry out on the dance floor, man. Brett looked away shyly. He smiled knowingly to himself. Yeah. Yeah. What do you mean? Yeah, Tommy demanded. Brett shook his head and surveyed the street before answering. I think she might be the one, Tommy.

The one I ask. Tommy was silent for a moment. Wait, the one? The one, as in wife, the one? Brett just smiled, a look of satisfaction on his face and a twinkle of total certainty in his eye. As Tommy was about to say something else, their intimate prom-conquest conversation was suddenly interrupted.

Both boys were startled as a loud, shrill, terrified scream ripped through the still of the night. Brett instantly turned his head towards his house. He saw a light go on in his parents' bedroom upstairs. As Tommy started to ask what was going on, another scream, louder than the first, assaulted their ears. Brett threw open the car door and sprinted across the lawn as fast as his legs could carry him. inside the house brett charged up the stairs two maybe three at a time he pushed through his parents bedroom door with unbridled force cracking the door at its hinges as he entered the room everything seemed to happen in slow motion he saw his father standing at the end of the bed holding his mother by the front of her pajama top the fabric clenched up in a closed hand a look of terror filled her eyes as she tried to twist her head around and see Brett into the room.

Brett frozen shock as his father's free arm pulled back like an archer loading an arrow into its bow. It seemed to pull back forever. And as Brett let a loud scream erupt from his mouth, the arm shot forward, connecting with his mother's cheekbone. Her eye crumbled shut, her head whipped around in reaction to the punch. Blood exploded from the laceration opened up on her cheek. one of her teeth flew out of her mouth and whistled past brett's face before hitting the wall and clacking to the floor with the sound of a ring dropping down the drain of a sink brett's mother dropped to the floor and her body sagged balancing just for a second before flopping over on the floor a pool of blood quick to form around her head

brett's father looked up at brett his face filled with rage and triumph his eyes stormy with domination brett's mind unfurled he couldn't comprehend the horrific scene of abuse that was before him He had suspected that his father had hit his mother before, but she had always insisted that it wasn't true, that her bruises were from some other outlandish source. Brett's stomach was churning, his heart racing out of control. His only impulse was to protect his mother. Without another thought, he charged at his father, lowering his shoulders and bending his torso forward.

It was a classic football charge that he'd performed many times out on the feet, field, so it came naturally to him. An enraged scream ripped from his mouth as he vaulted across the room. His father turned to meet his approach. He vainly put his arm out to ward Brett off, but it was too late. Brett's shoulder slammed into his father's rib cage and abdomen, the force lifting his father up off the ground. Brett charging right through him until at last his father's back was crushed into the bedroom wall. It seemed like the whole house shook, the wall vibrating,

pictures popping off their hooks and crashing to the floor. Brett felt the whole weight of his body mush into his father's chest, an audible groan jettisoned from his father's lungs. As Brett pulled back, his father slowly slid down the wall.

His face filled with shock and confusion, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open. What the fuck are you doing, Brett screamed at the top of his lungs. His two sisters now at the doorway, staring in at the events unfolding with complete horror in their eyes. Brett's father stumbled to get to his feet. No wind left in his lungs. He looked crippled and weak as he slowly rose, a far cry from the mighty man who had just punched his wife's tooth out mere seconds ago. Brett, breathing heavy

and on fire with adrenaline, pulled his fist back, ready to smash it into his father's face. A small trickle of blood seeped from the side of his father's mouth as he now stood erect again. Using the wall to support himself, he cringed as he tried to catch his breath and spew out some words. Brett, what are you doing? His 14-year-old sister Rebecca screamed. Brett turned to see his terrified sisters standing there watching him. This fucking animal doesn't deserve to be. to live. Brett pulled his arm back even further, ready to strike a violent blow. Both sisters

screamed, ah! This distracted Brett, just long enough for his father to get his first words out. Son, I didn't mean... But before his father could finish the sentence, his face and mouth froze. It just seemed to lock up like a wind-up toy that just ran out of time. His body rigid and stiff, the fingers on his hands, unbendable. It was as if he had just turned into a wax figure at a museum. The words he'd tried to vocalize now turned into an incoherent gargle, bubbles forming in the blood that filled his mouth. The two girls screamed even harder and louder.

Brett couldn't take it. His mind couldn't comprehend fast enough the madness unraveling before him. All he wanted to do now was run, run as far and as fast as he could. to get away. He couldn't be witness to any more. As his father began to teeter and fall, Brett just turned and pushed past his terrified sisters as he ran out of the room. As Tommy was running towards the front door of the house outside, Brett came flying out from behind it, his face soaked with tears, drool hanging from his mouth as he mumbled incoherent words. Tommy barely stepped out of his way as he brushed past.

passed. Tommy was more confused than anyone. All he could hear was screams and see Brett flying down the street. Tommy wasn't sure what had just transpired, but he knew that his best friend was in trouble. No matter what went on in the house, Tommy's first priority was to Brett. Without a second thought, he ran down the street after him with all his might. Brett ran fast, yet clumsily down the sidewalk, his arms flailing, his mind not concentrating on coordination. His face was a portrait of torment and anguish. His innocent eyes had just seen the one thing no child should ever have to see their parents do. He was lost, confused, running to get as far away from the beating he just witnessed as fast as he could.

With each step, his body cried for more oxygen, his lungs gasping for more air to keep his aimless run alive. Catching up to him in the distance was Tommy, yelling as loud as he could. Come back. Come back, Breck, come back. Come back. The hose water in Brett's mouth began to make him choke. He could hear Tommy's voice in the distance. He was yelling, come back, come back. Before he could organize one more thought, Brett could feel his body shaking. He felt his hand dropped the hose at the same time his eyes popped open. slowly Tommy came into view in front of him his face full of concern his mouth open hanging down like he was in peril come back Brett Brett come back these were the same words Brett had been hearing in his flashback as he was running down his street but now he was here here in his own backyard again the same words ringing in his ear suddenly he became aware that his body was being vigorously shaken

Tommy had both his hands on Brett's shoulders. Come back, Brett. Come back, Tommy commanded. Brett's head finally cleared, although he was still unsure why Tommy was shaking him. Come back, buddy, come back, Tommy continued. Brett stared into Tommy's desperate face. He knew something must have happened. Brett blurted out Tommy's name to let him know he could hear him. Tommy!

Brett was surprised at how much effort it took to get. Tommy's name out. Somehow he was completely out of breath, gasping in fact. A look of relief came over Tommy's face as he could see Brett comprehended him. Where'd you go, Brett? Jesus, you scared the living shit out of me. You were screaming, breathing heavy, and, hey man, you're crying. Brett still a bit days, slowly reached up and touched his cheek. He could feel the sticky moisture of tears smeared around his eyes. He knew the tears were the result of the vivid episode he had just relived. It was me and you, Tommy, Brett gasped between breaths.

It was that night, prom night with my father. Brett looked hurt as he spoke these words. Tommy picked up on it right away. Your father? Brent, what did you see? He was in the bedroom with the, my mother. Tommy's brow sagged. His eyes pouted.

He knew what Brett was talking about. He knew that it was the darkest part of Brett's life. Brett, nobody, don't go there, okay? But before Tommy could finish or Brett could continue, Brett's mouth turned into an upside-down smile,

his teeth clenching, his eyes crinkling shut in pain. Suddenly the porch light came on, illuminating the whole scenario. Brett grabbed at his chest and buckled over. He stumbled backwards against the wall and dropped heavily to the grass. He rolled on his back, arching it in pain. Shelly came running out of the sliding door.

Her hair up, her face still sleepy. Instantly she saw Brett writhing on the ground, his face and agony. Shelly, it's me, Tommy. No time to explain. Call 911. Hurry. Call 911, Tommy. instructed. Shelly stared for a second, completely confused, but yet lucid enough to grasp

that her husband was lying on the ground, having a heart attack. When Brett woke up the next morning, he could hear a number of various beeping sounds. His eyes fluttered open to a brightly lit hospital room. His head was groggy. He felt weak. Even tilting his head up to look around the room was a bit painful. Nonetheless, he was able to identify Sherry, curled up in the chair, beside his bed. He wanted to reach over and touch her, but his arm was attached to an intervenous, and he was hesitant to move it. For a second, he surveyed the room. There was a flat screen TV on the wall at the end of his bed, a small night table, a lamp, and not much else. Sherry was the only bright spot in the room. Brett tried to say her name, but his voice was weak.

his throat flammy. Instead, he attempted to clear his throat with some loud, disgusting throat clearing sounds. A few seconds later, Sherry woke up. Almost as startled as Brett had been as she realized she was in a hospital room. Brett, she cooed softly. Brett forced a smile as he watched her unravel her tiny frame,

looked toward him and stand up. Her eyes were still the same beautiful shape they were the day he met her. he followed her closely as she stepped to the side of the bed oh baby she said lovingly as she bent down to hug him brett just lay there and felt her weight on top of him she was so light such a comfortable fit after a moment of silence he could feel her body heaving up and down he knew she was sobbing he knew now that he had to muster's strength and talk to her "'It's okay, honey. I'm fine.' His raspy voice was as convincing as it could be under the circumstances. Sherry sat up and stared at him deeply.

"'Oh, what the hell happened?' Brett asked cluelessly. Sherry brushed a tear off her cheek with the back of her hand and then placed her palm on his cheek. "'It was a heart attack, baby. "'Just a mild one, but a heart attack,' Brett interrupted. "'A mild one. "'The doctor said on a scale of ten, was like a tube, but we have to be careful. Brett could feel himself welling up. He didn't want to

cry in front of Sherry. He could see she was stressing enough. He swallowed the excess saliva built up in his mouth and powered on. Wow, I never thought that kind of thing would happen to me. Where? Brett seemed to be searching for when or where something like this could have happened. You were in the backyard last night, Brett, with Tommy. High school, Tommy. He told me you guys were out having a drink. Yeah, or ten, Brett added an attempt to inject humor into the dire situation. Sherry half smiled and continued to stroke his face.

Tommy said you were drinking from the garden hose and started choking. Brett's eyes widened slightly. Suddenly started playing back the events of last night, his head. He was starting to remember. What did he say? Anything else? Did I say anything to him? Shri put her hand on his forehead, not allowing him to get excitable. You can ask him yourself. He's in the hall. I'll send him in a few minutes. Wait, he's here? Brett seemed surprised. He said you were screaming. Your body was trembling. He said it looked like you were having a nightmare and and then fell to the ground.

Did he say anything else? Brett demanded. Baby, shh, please, you have to rest. Brett's mind was racing. He could hear the heart monitor beside his bed starting to beat faster. Sherry became concerned. Brett, relax, relax, baby. Don't get worked up. Everything is okay now.

Brett stared up at Sherry, who was pouring her love all over him. He knew she was upset. He didn't want to distress her any more than she already was. was. He took a few deep breaths and slowed himself down. He grabbed her hand and interlocked his fingers with hers. I'm sorry, baby. I really am. Brett's voice was sincere and slightly afraid. Sherry squeezed his hand and brushed the hair off his forehead. Stop it, Brett. You didn't do anything wrong. This is just your body sending you a warning shot, okay? We're going to change some habits, okay, all of us. Sherry smiled at him, reassuringly, and lay back down ever so gently on his

chest. For what seemed like an hour, they just touched and felt each other, got close, connected. Eventually they were interrupted by a light tapping on the door. They both looked over and saw Tommy standing there sheepishly, tired. Mind if I just see how you're doing, buddy, and then I'll get out of your hair. Sherry and Brett looked at each other before Sherry. got up and walked over to Tommy. You take all the time you need Tommy. You're a good friend. Sherry got on her tiptoes to kiss Tommy on the cheek.

Text me when you're done. I'm going to go grab a coffee. Tommy smiled and gave a half wave as Sherry disappeared down the hall. Then he turned and looked at Brett, laying helplessly and vulnerable in the white antiseptic hospital bed. Slowly Tommy moved closer and pulled up a chair. air. What happened last night, Tommy? Brett asked without hesitation.

I thought you were messing with me, buddy, because of the Miss Solansky thing. I thought the whole hose thing was a prank or some kind of bullshit joke you were playing on me for old time's sake. But Tommy paused. But what, Brett prodded? But the look I saw in your face, your eyes. It was real. wasn't it brett you went somewhere somewhere far away brett stared at tommy thankfully gratefully for believing him for acknowledging it was true i was there tommy swear to god as much as i'm here with you now i was there tommy nodded and then spoke softly it was that night wasn't it the one when your old man hit your old lady Wasn't it? Brett's eyes filled with pain. He could feel his mouth going dry. Yeah. Yeah, Tommy, it was. I don't know why. I don't have any control of where I go back to, but whenever I drink from the hose, it just takes me where it wants to. Does it? Tommy said almost challengingly. What if it's taking you right where it's supposed to? Brett painfully propped himself up on an elbow. What's that supposed to mean, Brett challenged? Tommy didn't hesitate. Your father, Brett, this weird water hose thing brought you right to the worst night of your life.

The night that turned your life upside down. What about my father, Brett snapped? That was the last time you ever saw him alive, Brett. You refused to talk to him after that or even see him. It changed you, buddy. You were never the same. There was a hollow spot inside you, a spot that's never healed. Brett glared at Tommy.

He was speechless, partly because of Tommy's brashness, but equally because of Tommy's insight and intuitiveness. Tommy was right. Brett's anger for his dad had scarred him, left him emotionally tormented for the rest of his life. Tommy was so accurate that Brent couldn't even respond. Look, maybe this is happening for a reason, Brett. From everything you've told me,

maybe this is your subconscious, your inner child searching for resolution, for closure. Brett looked at Tommy as if he was looking at an alien from a strange planet. Jesus, Tommy, what are you, my shrink now? Where did you learn to talk like that? Tommy tried not to look offended as he replied. Listen, buddy, life is hard. You know, it's all full of bullshit. Crap gets throwing at us that we didn't ask for, that we never expect.

Believe me, I got my own stories that I can tell, but this is about you, buddy. Somehow, I think maybe a strange window has opened up to give you a chance to, I don't know, get things right with your dad. Suddenly, Brett's heart monitor started beeping more rapidly again. Brett could feel anger rising up inside of them like a thermometer in the heat. My dad? Brett blurted out angrily. What the fuck do you know about it? me and my asshole dad. Tommy looked at Brett with as much understanding as he could muster. And in the most delicate, diplomatic voice, he could summon, he said,

You never went to see him, Brett. When he was on his deathbed, asking for you. You never went to see him. You have unfinished business. How the fuck am I going to see him, Tommy? My flashbacks only take me back to places I've already been. Yeah. But what if they could take you to place? places that you should have been, Tommy suggested. Brett paused for just a moment, just long enough so we could catch enough breath to tell Tommy to fuck off, Tommy. Get the fuck out of here.

Brett, please, this might be important. It might be your only chance to make it right. Me? Make it right? Is that what you just fucking said? Me, make it right? Get the fuck out of here, Tommy. Brett's heart monitor was racing faster than ever, and the nurse's alarm automatically went off.

off. Almost instantly, footsteps could be heard running down the hall. Within seconds, the nurses were in the room, pulling Tommy away from the bed. Get him out of my fucking sight! Now! Brett was in screaming mode now. The nurses pulling Tommy out of the room while at the same time trying to give him an injection that would calm Brett down. Sherry ran into the room amidst all the chaos and grabbed Brett's hand. It's okay, baby. Relax, just go to sleep. Shh. It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay. She tried her best to be reassuring, but I was not sure how much of it he was absorbing,

as she could see his eyes roll back into his head, the injected concoction in his veins, swiftly putting him to sleep. Whoa, there it is. There it is, just a little bit more to go, till we finish, till we conclude our story. man hope you're enjoying it

thanks for listening and more to come as promised let's get to some announcements here well we can let's see later this week yours truly will be in San Jose at the San Jose Improv that's October 20th

the 23rd going to be great get your tickets at harlem williams.com and then in November November 11 and 12, I'll be at the Comedy Works in Denver, Colorado. Then I'll be at the American Comedy Company in San Diego. That's November 17th to the 20th.

And then I'll be for Thanksgiving weekend at the Irvine Improv in Orange County in California. So lots of good shows coming up. Harlow Williams.com, click on the stand-up comedy tour link and you can reserve your tickets right now. What else? Check out the store while you're at harloughamms.com. You can write to me, as many of our listeners did today,

at harlomwilms.com. There's a contact link, or you can call me 323-739-433. 3-3-3-3-3-3-3. If you want to share your feedback on the short story or anything else, always love to hear your guy's point of the use. That's it for today.

Don't forget to get the app on your cell phone. It's free. Just go to your app store. Type in the Harland Highway, and you can listen to the show wherever, whenever you want for free. Free's good. Free is cheap. That's it.

Thanks for being here, you guys. We'll get you next time. And until then, chicken chalming, baby. That is correct, Mr. Rewa. Yeah.