Every Number One Ever

We're off to a sexy start this week, before we're hit in midships by a biggy! Oh my gosh. Did... did that actually happen?! It was hiding in plain sight all along and no one knew.

Boom! Wham! Thwipnk! This is an episode that blew us out of the water. Repetition? You betcha! Shock twist and turns? Oh most definitely sir. Plus we talk "The Troubles", the absolute boredom of a certain glam star's release history, and the tyranny of Mr Whippy!

This show is sometimes like being in a gaslighting relationship. Half the time when you expect great stuff, we're left with mediocrity, and other times just when you think all hope is lost... THIS happens.

In which our intrepid heroes encounter very grim 1970s metaphors for women, Liam turns on himself, we hear about being sick in a bed, and someone might come in like a demolition device. or not. We simply don't know.

Roll up! Roll up! That’s right folks. Step right up and witness the most incredibly, jawslackingly, uppity, pretentious title we’ve ever managed as a show. Trust Craig and Liam to argue to this degree of absurdity. We also talk about music too. So we’ve got that going for us.

I think its fair to say that this is one of the least focused, rambling... shall we say "exploratory" episodes we've ever produced. The tangents are plentiful and distended. Somewhere amongst it all we do get the job done, but its a journey. Maybe pack a snack for the road?

Well dear listener, allow me to give you an inside look at what goes on with the nuclear powered production line here at ENOE Towers. One of our number does the editing, and another one of us deals with the online aspects (scheduling etc.). When I do this part, I check the notes that ML has left for me. Today's notes for this episode simply state "LM doesn't like a butt plug". I do not understand this. I shall have to relisten to find out. And so will you...

There is a lot of walk of boys bits here, for which we would apologise... except we shan't. And some poop too. Its all a bit lavatorial this week. Sorry not sorry. Hashtag shan't.

Here at ENOE Towers the airconditioning has totally packed in, Sigourney Weaver is running through the vents with a flame throwers (there aren't aliens, she's just bored), and the fancy zip tap has broken. We're sweltering! But we soldier on through the heatwave to bring you some spicy content, some serious chat, and a new sting that'll be making a regular appearance in the coming weeks.

Hark... do you hear it... on the wind... the faint chiming of bells and a whiff of trademan's tea. It also get a bit creepy, a bit stupid, and we move from one shore to another. Trust me, it'll make sense once you've listened to it.