Disappointment manifold but hope so too, the bad boys of station E-R-O-B take it to the edge Phoenix and rise from ashes of erotic shock jock thriller base reality to soar thru betterreality of carnivalesque v-neck carnal reverie. Lowly listner
We petty officers make stealthmode descent to lower depths of peak DirecTVcore content and contend with byzantine byways of pill popping mutineer ERob's madhouse submersible. We surface as new men with new concerns. This is new time. Get new.
Facing down the eschaton, we risk a ton—but splendid reward is ours and high watermark in conversational folk art is achieved RE: damnable marks. This deconstruction of the great American endtime faith film has the ERERP grappling with daemons
Inaugural Black Eye Club Survivor Summit commences with psychotronic exegesis of E-Rob-as-Old-Scratch exhibition.Bullets of critical faculty being medicine man blessed—we blast!—us Harlots of Satan, through many Onis (daemon) of wrongthink in W
Your favorite Purg-spergs walk straight/walk narrow and come-along-Sam to speak on a made-for-TNT/made-immortal-on-Grit (the TV channel not the newspaper) supernatural western featuring Eric Rob as outlaw villain Bl*ckjack Britton. Ropeday draw
Us merry maricónes are once again south of the border for lurid but edifying Eric vehicle. Current societal plights of ableism, homophobia and statutory rape are fully resolved during this discussion which will endure like a Wyld Stallyns world
I don't know what I've been told but have you heard tell of two civilians reporting for duty on empty airbase of the mind to share impressions of grossly preemptive serviceporn mockbuster from clearsighted year 2020? Couple Top Gun-nerds conten
With brazen lack of concern for ERERP pensions, we head into the sweatbox to aggressively grill this stillborn procedural from the first year of so far the finest century of all. Great obstacles are foisted upon us—time-limited Zoom calls, inco
Two ‘99 alumni ponder over an embarrassment in a year of riches—a rightly forgotten piece of American indie irritainment. In spite of trying material, we try to transcend materiality—and by gum nearly succeed—but waistline ballast prevents asce
Back yet in comfortable confines of eternal ‘99 beyond history, we glove-up to dissect an invaluable contribution to Hitman Awareness Month. The scalpel trembles. Having gone to seed as consequence of compulsive podcasting, we both agree to tak
Peter steps into Eternal Light to be greeted by soulmate Dorothy, who'd gone ahead forty two years prior. “Where’s Hef?” asks Pete. “Hef’s not dead. He lives on in ladyform to pwn the libs.” While Hoogdanovich is forged as one in Paradise above
Two boys who are just really good at what they do (not autistic) are back in good saddle. ERERP season two erupts with a volcanic discussion of Lansky, in which king Eric plays doomed Benny "Bugsy" Siegel. The year 1999 looms heavy in our hosts
We expend a modest amount of discourse energy on an ensemble machofest wherein Roberts portrays president James Munroe versus Stallocean's 11. Height ain't always your ally but E.D. and roy are allies to the death, and you can bet your whole al
A couple PCP virgins wreck and reckon with the curious PTA adaptation of a Pynchon hippie noir novel featuring Eric A. Roberts as a Jewish real estate mogul who hangs out with Aryan bikers.
In this extremely discursive Ericcentric excursion, we leave our corporeal selves for real and astral trip to soul trap moon for well over 28 minutes (lightning bolt) to examine an adaptation of Brinkley Dannion’s alleged afterlife experiences.
Anachronistic eyeglasses be damned, we suffer the torpedoes and depth charges of outrageous fortune on a mission to tease out insights from this geezer teaser par exemplar. Shadows can be your cheapest prop. Ensigns make great fishing buddies.
Everybody plays the Scrooge sometimes and Roberts gets his turn in this PG-13 AfAm holiday romp from 2012. The year the Mayan Calendar ended but the world kept going. And getting better and better. Beautiful. Even more beautiful.
Want some whiskey in your water? Bubbles in your blood? It would truly be a crime if we didn’t cover this true crime TV adaptation from one of Eric’s most prolific years, 1996. All your old friends are here—prison, fugitives, evidence in the fo
o7 We salute the dynamic ribbon device and rhapsodize about American cultural supremacy over the course of this breezy dissection of an Aussie-set movie made by Eastern Europerv Dusan Makavajev. Roberts cuts a lean figure as a salesman fro
Our first faith film restores our faith in film, as we genuflect then genuinely reflect on this prison set story starring Oliver Stone's robo-progeny Sean. Our uncanny valley crossing is fraught with peril but we learn a valuable lesson on this
Consider the mockbuster. We burrow deep and long (from New Mex to ol Virginny) into a rich discussion on this current kaiju sensation. Ableists BTFO! Eric Roberts is 65 years young as of 6/18/2021. Ageists go home.