The Storm Outs.

Kevin Scampoli and Anthony Saunders destroy the hopes of Anthony's brother, Anthony's ex, and Kevin's former co-host. The most dramatic moments in Real Kid Radio's history have been compiled together in one clip show.

We Hit & Run - 04/30/2008 - The Storm Outs.

Clips taken from:
4/25/2008
12/03/2007
08/15/2007


Next Wednesday is a big-time We Hit & Run, as they debut in three new markets!

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We Hit & Run will release two versions of their show every week, every Wednesday. There will be a shortened, Podcast release that will be widely available to download by anybody on the internet- meanwhile, the original, uncut episode will air exclusively on Real Kid Radio.

We hit and run.

I have always been a self-proclaimed king of pillow-talk - never really a big 'dirty talker' though. I keep it positive, there's loads of laughter. The Simpsons references ('This shirt is chafing me...'), the subtle hints for moisture ('It's like a desert in here...')- the stories are mythical, my personality and its sense of humor run a muck between the sheets. I'll never forget the time my Simpsons reference was taken literally:

Oh man, now my pants are chafing me..."
'Well, then why don't you just loosen them?"

Quite a bit of time was spent explaining the episode where Bart's older crush (voiced by that one woman from Roseanne) and Bart's bully were on the Simpson couch, and the bully was conning the clothes off of himself to steal bases with Roseanne actress voice, a lot more time than was spent selfishly thrusting.

I'm never more comfortable than in a sexual situation. There was a night in Massachusetts where I sung the entirety of Wanna Be Startin' Somethin' holding a woman on top of me, severely limiting my vocal abilities. One of the major highlights of my teenage years- the 'relationship' barely lasted a month.

The overnight gig is treading along nicely. It is the ideal job for having visitors, a very independent occupation where you do your work and head out. I love a job where a girlfriend can visit and you can finish your work as if there was never a distraction.

Since moving to Vegas, one of the major highlights has to be the nights spent attending karaoke at the House Of Blues. Every Monday night at the Mandalay Bay's HOB, a live band hosts a night of karaoke- a set list containing the typical Cure and the expected Billy Idol, along with some obscurer Michael Jackson songs. We've gone maybe three or four times, but the memories themselves are timeless-

• Riggy performing and horrifying the crowd during his visit
• Ant Saunders being Anthony Saunders
• Drinking Jack N' Coke two at a time
• Being rejected by married women
• Being the only witness to Brian Garcia's obtaining of a phone number

And by far, the best of all...

There was one night we may have drank more than any of the other occasions (the 'two at a time' night, with two simultaneous straws cyphering Jack). On this night, when karaoke closed its curtains, our group was disbanded into smaller groups throughout the Mandalay Bay. One such group contained Myself, Brian Garcia, and my brother Jim. For whatever intoxicated reason, Jim decided that a funny bit would be to continuously taunt Brian, get into his face, and challenge him to a 'throw down' in the middle of the poker area. Hilarity ensued, as Brian's responses were limited to 'Yeah, okay' and 'Whatever Jim' as he attempted to act oblivious to the continuous harassment performed publicly at high volumes (with hundreds of eyes looking on). My whole gimmick during this scene was to play the middle man, with the 'He'll do it, Brian' and the 'I got your back Garcia if he does anything' comments interjected between Jim's threats.

Do something Garcia. I'll fuck you up right here, man!"

Face-to-face, face-in-face, definitely one of the greatest events I'll ever experience in a casino.

It seems as though Sid & I will finally be kicking off our podcast within' the next week- or at least recording the first show. We finally got a kick-ass studio in the house, so the equipment is here, it's just a matter of getting the long missing Sid to make the trip. Once it's recorded, its world-wide premiere will be posted on this blog. Stay updated through Literary Slumber. If you want to hear a selection of radio production pieces I've made in the past, feel free to visit the Real Kid Radio myspace, or listen to Jim & Them (Episode 7 really shows the quality of the new recording setup).

4/28/2007

Music: "Life'll Kill Ya" - Warren Zevon (Album)

The desert was determined to swallow my Chevy. I was miles away from home, off-roading through the Apex, in a car that was obviously not built for the task. It was dark, I just kept my eyes on the sky ahead thinking "Follow the smoke." I did get stuck, but trudged through the mud- it was my best friend's birthday.

I caught a glimpse of a bon fire, breathing my third sigh of relief- the blaring Bob Marley proved that this one wasn't full of false hope.

Engine Off.
Parked.

Here's the hard part... where the fuck is Sid? The scattered groups had no apparent configuration, except that they grew larger as you got closer to the keg. The first familiar face I saw was Suzzy, who greeted me with a cup as if I were her father- surprising, considering she is my arch nemesis. Within' moments it was the fire, the sand, and one group. Myself, Reuben. Jorge, Suzzy, ___ (I leave a line, because Sid has a lot of friends that will not matter in this story) and the man of the night- Sid Vicious.

The Apex portion of the night ends as every get together- a cry of "the cops are coming, the cops are coming". Between my arrival, and the train of vehicles skidding through a swamp-textured desert... I did manage to hustle a listen of "I'll Never Fall In Love Again" - Elvis Costello & Burt Bacharach on notch 11 for everyone to hear. It was only party music to Sid and I.
"Oh great, Kevin" - Suzzy, without hesitation, or a need to confirm my location.

We sped down the highway as if we were chasing a tornado, racing one another with no fear of the alcohol in our blood.

We arrived collectively to a house belonging to all woman. A woman house. Lesbians I heard. I actually recognized it as the home I had been kicked out of a month earlier for arguing over their rule to put the seat down. Thankfully they forgot my face. They wouldn't after this night.

I snuck in my Graham Parker cd to counter-act the radio, and it went over really well. I made as many bathroom trips as possible, hoping somebody would notice the seat up and I would be able to reenact my Ron Bennington-inspired tirade. No such luck. That wouldn't stop Reuben and I from referencing it, reminiscing, and giggling every few seconds. People were in too good a mood.

All but one, a tall, big boned black man. Well, his skin color was whiter than me, but everything else about him would convince a radio audience otherwise. Dressed in camo shorts, and a "Somebody in Compton <3s Me" tee shirt- he wasn't a fan of my suit jacket.

"Why do you have a heart buttoned to your jacket, are you gay or sum'thin?"

The real story behind the heart- which looked great- I joked with Sid about smoothly removing it and handing it off slyly to a lovely woman. But to answer the soldier's question-

"Yeah it does. I'm gay. Is that a problem?"

We went on as such for ten minutes or so. I don't remember any of the dialogue, except that he couldn't keep up after a round or two and became frustrated. Sid had a stoic expression, which is very common for him after he consumes a lot of alcohol.

As the thug got serious, Suzzy removed her belt (which could best be described as Jon Rambo's gatling gun ammo) and stood between us. I was honored, as I'm sure she could handle herself better in an altercation, considering my 1-1 all time record in fighting.

I wanted to get hurt on this night. Feeling a lot like I do now, I wanted to feel it physically as well. I wasn't afraid of being broken, and this was a man capable of breaking.

The situation died down, minutes passed- Sid decided to leave. We made it as far as the living room.

The black Caucasian and a sidekick met us by the television. There was no 'Suzzy's belt' in this room- for all I knew she was in the bathroom with the seat up. He did the "towering over" gimmick,

Staring up, I did the smart thing...

I knocked his hat off.

The rest is hazy, we ended up in a bedroom with Sid on his back gouging his eyes.

What a friend.

We stormed out like Elvis Costello in '79, as I continued to foolishly antagonize his sidekick.

A few days later I was in jail over the reasons explained on the Jim & Them radio show.
I had the privelage of being arrested, fingerprinted, and mugshotted with a bruised eye.

"A buddy and I were throwing a football."

"Why being really lonely is sometimes super awesome..."

The past couple nights have been spent in a cloud- a polluted, musky, pirate ship coloured cloud. Sid stopped by the workplace last night, which added a slight skip to my step. He commented on my rapid weight loss, a subject I've sarcastically responded to with "I haven't been able to eat in three days". Not sarcastically because it's untrue, just because people seem to laugh about it as opposed to responding with horror when I add those inflections to my speech.

I have taken on the life of a fifteen year old girl. Loss of hunger, in her bedroom, waiting for a call.

I have always been a person who desires closure. Yet looking back, I can't recall a time that I have taken advantage of a closure opportunity. I insist on continuing things, through whatever muck we've rained ourselves into (thanks to the head I've been blessed with- I rain more, and for a longer period of time). This time I will not make the same mistakes- but this time I apparently will not have the opportunity to.

I have never been able to write while in pain, either. It's very odd, and would explain why a lot of my writings may have come off as phoney to Sara in the past. I will not be able to write anything of significance about this situation until I have completely moved on and committed sexual acts in a moving car with somebody else. Being a poet, I've still tried- some attempts can be found on that dreaded myspace blog of mine.

I know I've been Scrubs-happy (I knew I could muster a positive word) lately, only because it is hands down my most reliable collection of DVDs. Rory doesn't understand- she's a girl!

In that clip, not only does JD get it- but Cox with his baby jealousy, and Turk because of the engagement. It hits on all ends, what a success rate.