Storyteller / Performer (various musical and spoken parts) (2:07)

Rest. I'm okay. You're okay.

Storyteller (possibly Dylan Brody) (2:11)

We're okay.

Storyteller / Performer (various musical and spoken parts) (2:14)

I'm okay.

Friend of Person Selling Car (2:16)

You're okay.

Storyteller / Performer (various musical and spoken parts) (2:18)

We're okay. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Risk Show Host / Narrator (Kevin Allison or another host) (2:23)

Hello, kids. This is Risk, the show where people tell true stories they never thought they'd dare to share. I'm Kevin Allison and this is American Gypsy. Behind me now, the very best Village People imitating group out of Holland circa 1979. Because today's episode is called I'm okay, you're okay. Three wonderful stories from recent Risk live shows in New York and Los Angeles about being okay with yourself. Not just being okay, but not beating up on yourself, but let's just say it, loving yourself Damn you. We've got three storytellers who I personally love sharing this lovely theme. In a little bit, we're going to hear from the illustrious Mr. Dylan Brody, who just before he did this show, was opening for David Sedaris. But before that, we're thrilled to have back to the show the brilliant Mr. Joel Kim Booster. First time he did the show in New York, I proposed that he marry me. After he told his story that didn't end up working out, but we had him. We had him back anyway. He's just that damn good. So without further ado, here is Joel Kim Booster at the Risk live show in New York City with a story we call man in the Mirror.

Joel Kim Booster (4:01)

I knew I was gay before I knew I was Asian. I, like many Korean babies in the mid-80s, was adopted by a pair of very charitable evangelical Christians. We were all the rage, and they were very trendy, so they had to have one. And it's funny because I can distinctly remember realizing that I liked boys far before I ever conceptualized my race or really thought about it at all. In fact, I really didn't think about it at all until high school. You see, in high school, I was out, and in high school, I met Henry. And Henry was smart and funny and about as sexy as a suburban gay teen can be. And more than that, he was cool. And we hung out a lot. He was a couple years older than me, and he taught me everything he knew about what it meant to be a cool gay teen. You know, he made me listen to Madonna. He took me to my first Express for Men. And probably most important of all, he taught me how to give a grade a blowjob in the back of his Pontiac Sunfire on every single dimly lit street in Plainfield, Illinois. And I was head over heels in love with him. So after a while, I finally found it within myself to confess this. We were in his car. So I sat up and I wiped my mouth off, and I looked him straight in the eye and I said, henry, I love you. Will you be my boyfriend? Now, in hindsight, I probably should have reversed the order there, like, after the blowjob. Probably wasn't the best idea, but his response was,

Storyteller / Performer (various musical and spoken parts) (5:44)

oh,

Joel Kim Booster (5:48)

I'm really not into Asian guys. Have you guys ever had one of those moments? One of those paradigm shift moments in your life? One of those moments you will hold onto for the rest of your life no matter what? That was that moment for me. It was like looking at a picture of my face in high resolution for the very first time. And Going, oh my God, I'm a monster. And then emailing the photographer and asking him to take it off his website. Only it wasn't a poorly thought out metaphor. It was my life. And it was the first time that I realized how intrinsically connected my race and my sexuality were. And it wasn't something I ever stopped thinking about. For those of you who don't know, it's sort of a common trope within the gay community that Asian men are undesirable and unsexy and unfuckable. I know Kevin makes it really hard to believe, but it's true. And on sites like Grindr or even OkCupid, you'll often see phrases like whites only or no fats, no femmes, no Asians, or my personal favorite, just not into Asian guys. Sorry, I forgive you. And so it's tough not to think about that. And as I blossomed from an adolescent into the neurotic man I am today, it was hard to shake, you know, So I grew up and I became very shy and extremely self conscious. And weirdly, in like this cognitive dissonance sort of way, I was really sexually aggressive too. So it was tough. Flash forward to a year after I graduated from college. I am in New York for the very first time. I. I am living. It is summer. YOLO wasn't even a thing yet, but I was doing it. And I was nearing the end of my week in New York and I hadn't gotten laid yet. A fact that I loudly complained to my two best lesbians about. And they quickly, quickly decided to rectify that. They ushered me into Williamsburg and they took me to this bar called Metropolitan for the first time. Oh, some of you have heard of it. Great. And we sat there and we drank and we shopped for a while. And this is where I met Andrew. Andrew was this six foot, nothing, blond haired, blue eyed, muscular, Nordic sex God. And as I came back to our table, they told me, that guy is checking you out. A fact I aggressively disputed. I mean, look at him. He is like a Chicago 8, which means he's a New York 10. And I'm like a Chicago 6, which means I'm a 4 here. How could that person ever be into me? But somehow I got up the courage to approach him anyways, and we started talking and weirdly, we hit it off. He told me he was a comedian, and I was like, oh my God, I'm a comedian too.

Storyteller / Performer (various musical and spoken parts) (8:40)

Hey.

Joel Kim Booster (8:42)

And he was super funny. And within an hour, he had shown me a picture of himself half nude on his phone and leaned in and whispered into my ear, hey, you want to go do some gay stuff back at my place? And I did. So we went back to his one bedroom in Williamsburg, and he showed me his blog, and he played me a joy and a newsome song on his ukulele. Which I know at this point I should have been saying to myself, look at your life. Look at your choices, and gotten out of there. But I found this all, like, weirdly charming. And so we proceeded to have the best drunk sex I had ever had in my entire goddamn life. And as I woke up the next morning, I was like, this is unreal. This has to be a dream, right? No one has ever been into me like this. I mean, does he know I'm Asian? And as he was making me breakfast, he made me breakfast. He explained to me that he was a rice queen, a term that I had never heard before about a group of men that I don't think I had ever met before. You see, in the gay community, when a guy is really into Asian guys, they call him a rice queen. And in fact, that blog that he showed me was about 40% devoted to his love of Asian men and arguing with people on the Internet who disagreed. And so I was into it. I left his apartment that day, and he asked if we could see each other again before I went back to Chicago. I happily obliged, and we had a great time, flew back to Chicago, and I was there for a couple weeks, and he texted me to ask me if I would like to move in with him platonically. I mean, he just needed a roommate, you guys. And I'm not insane, so I respectfully declined. But I am insane. So a couple weeks later, I booked flights to go back to New York and stay with him for a week. And this week was all about him. I stayed with him all week. We fucked, we had a great time, we made each other laugh, and I was falling in love. And in fact, at one moment in the week, in an ill attempt at dirty talk, I said out loud, I love you inside of me. And we laughed about this later. Obviously, it was a goof. But even more honestly, if you had asked me at that moment if I loved him, I probably would have said yes, flew back to Chicago again, and for the next several months, this was the routine. I would fly to New York and visit him. We would chat in the interim, we would text, we would video, Skype, we would do it all. And I was slowly falling head over heels in love with this man. And I was also Slowly starting to realize that he was not nearly as perfect as I had hoped he would be. And a fact, to be fair to him, he tried to warn me about, but I argued with him and I said, no, you are, because you have to be, because no one else will ever like me the way you like me. Flash forward to January. It's the last time I would fly to New York to visit Andrew. This week was awful. He was very cold to me, he was mean to me. He would ignore me, and he would do things like leave his manhunt profile up on the computer for me to see. It was not a fun week. And it was January, so I kind of. It all came to a head near the end of the week where I looked at him and I said, andrew, we are going to have a serious conversation about what this relationship is as soon as we get home from the bar. And again, I probably should have reconsidered the order of events there, but I didn't. I was 22. Give me a break. So I don't know if you guys have ever angrily drank a PBR at someone from across the bar, but I did that night. I drank several angry PBRs at him. And after several of those, I said it to him in the back porch of Metropolitan, where it all started. I said, andrew, I love you. Why are you doing this? And he didn't say it back. Spoiler alert. He never says it ever. And at this point, I really should have been looking at my life. I really should have been looking at my choices. And I should have packed it up and flown back to Chicago and said, fuck this guy. But at that moment, I thought about Henry again. And I thought about all those times I'd been rejected by men because of my race. And then I thought about this gorgeous New York 8 in front of me who was specifically into me because of this, and how could I let that go? But after a couple more nights of sleeping next to someone who was so obviously not into it, I decided that I would leave this relationship triumphant. And I would let him know just how much he broke my little Asian heart. The night before I flew back to Chicago, his best friend from the west coast was staying with us. And rather than let him know just how much he broke my little Asian heart, I ended up sleeping with his best friend in his bed while he played video games in the next room. Not exactly the triumphant exit I had hoped for. In fact, the triumphant exit was more like me waking him up on his couch to ask him to text his friend to See if we used protection the night before because I couldn't remember. And then swiftly fleeing to the airport. Flash forward two more years. I live here now. Andrew has moved to LA to be with his wife that he married this past summer and got an invite to the wedding on Gchat. You guys. But listen, I did not come here today to shit on Andrew. He is a damaged person. Obviously I am too. And he's got a lot of life to live away from me. And that's fine. I didn't even come here to shit on rice queens. In the two years since I've been with Andrew, I have been with a lot of guys who have fetishized me. And let me tell you, it's great. It feels awesome. But I realized that sleeping with people who fetishized me was not going to erase that memory of Henry. It was not going to make other people's hangups about my race disappear. In fact, I realized that other people's hang ups about my race had suddenly become my hang ups about my race. And as corny as it sounds, you guys, I realized that I would never be able to tell someone that I loved them authentically until I was able to love myself. I know, I'm sorry, But I hope I'll get to say it. And I hope the next time I say it, it won't be out of fear. I hope the next time I get to say it it's because he makes me laugh and he defends homeless people on the subway. And when he smiles at me, it doesn't make me feel weird. And I hope it's here, not at the Pit, but I hope it's in New York City. I hope it's here. Thank you. Joel kim, boost.

Risk Show Host / Narrator (Kevin Allison or another host) (16:22)

That story was not about me. Also, let me just say, it's okay to shit on some rice queens. You just have to negotiate it first.

Storyteller / Performer (various musical and spoken parts) (16:40)

Different is hard. Different is lonely. Different is trouble for you only. Different is heartache, is pain. But I'd rather be different than be the same.

Joel Kim Booster (16:59)

Just not into Asian guys. Sorry. I forgive you.

Kevin Allison (17:16)

Hey folks, It's Kevin from 2026 again. If you would like to help support Risk, which is inherently expensive to operate and regularly struggles to break even, consider joining our Patreon. You can get an ad, free feed of the podcast, hundreds of bonus stories, audio check ins with me, online, zoom socials with me and other Risk listeners, and most importantly, you'll be helping to keep us afloat. Join us@patreon.com risk or or make a one time donation at Paypal me riskshow Focus features in Blumhouse Obsession When I

Friend of Person Selling Car (18:00)

have a crush on a guy no

Joel Kim Booster (18:01)

one knows, be careful. I wish Nikki love me more than

Storyteller / Performer (various musical and spoken parts) (18:05)

anyone in the entire world.

Kevin Allison (18:06)

Who you wish for? Obsession is 96% fresh on rotten Tomatoes.

Storyteller / Performer (various musical and spoken parts) (18:11)

I love you so so so so much.

Kevin Allison (18:15)

It's blood soaked nightmare fuel.

Joel Kim Booster (18:17)

What kind of spills you put on her?

Kevin Allison (18:19)

You have been warned. Obsession rated R under 17 animated without parent only theaters May 15 with special engagements in Dolby.

Storyteller (possibly Dylan Brody) (18:34)

There's a range of emotions with which I am not sanguine. It's sort of a whole cluster over toward the positive end of the human emotive spectrum. If in 20 years one of you comes up to me and says, oh, I saw you once doing Risk at Nerd melt, my response would be, regardless of how well tonight goes, my response would be, was it the night that I stumbled over the word defenestration or the night that I noticed one of the buttons on my jacket was broken before I went on stage? Tonight is the night that I noticed that one of the buttons in my jacket was was broken before I went on stage. The habit of finding in any experience, no matter how positive the negative implication or attribute, is so automatic, so swift, that it feels as though it's hardwired some genetic manifestation of my Russian Jewish melancholic heritage, as though somewhere the gray clouds of cold Slavic skies is embedded deeply in my DNA and longing to be revealed. But when I look closely at my own thought process, I realize that this was trained into me from an early age by my parents. Fearful that I was not getting enough instruction in critical thinking in public school, they enrolled me in a full immersion home study in hypercritical thinking, an example of how this works. When I was in fifth grade, I was invited to audition for the school play. Now, the extracurricular theater at Schuylerville Central School was reserved for high schoolers and junior high schoolers who were doing very well. That I was invited as a fifth grader meant that the director of the program had genuine faith in my abilities and my intellect and my ability to handle was a huge honor for me just to be asked to audition, which I told my mother. Her response was, okay, well, don't get your hopes up. That only leads to disappointment. When I auditioned and was cast in the lead, my father said, well, now the real work begins. And when the show was well received and I got my very first taste of actual audience laughter and applause, they said, all right, let's do a postmortem and see what you can do better next time. In my family we say, this too shall pass when we hear good news. And I carried this into my experience of the world when in 1994, George Carlin called me to tell me I was funny. And I frequently tell this story and I say that that was very exciting. And I danced naked in my apartment for half an hour afterwards. That is a lie. George Carlin called me to tell me I was funny. It was the most gratifying, satisfying, heartwarming moment of my career. To that date. And the moment I hung up the phone, I did the postmortem. How could I have handled that better? Why couldn't I turn that one phone call into a lasting relationship? There was no naked dancing. In 2005, I competed in the Golden State Full Contact Taekwondo Championships. Stay with the group, ma'.

Kevin Allison (22:23)

Am.

Storyteller (possibly Dylan Brody) (22:27)

Usually I know what's going to get a laugh. That just completely took me by surprise. Now, at the black belt level in competition, it's because I'm heavy, isn't it? That's what I'm going to take away from this evening. I said Taekwondo Championships. She laughed. I'm fat, that's what. See how it works? It goes that fast in my head. So at the black belt level, they don't put much stock in age or physical conditioning. That is to say, a 41 year old with middle aged spread is expected to compete happily against 20 somethings who can spin themselves gleefully into the air. By my final fight of the day, I was wheezing asthmatically, lumbering around the ring like a bear drawn toward hibernation, trying to throw any punches and kicks that I saw openings for striving to absorb the blows that I could not avoid, hoping it would be over soon and I could go home. In the second round of that fight, my opponent threw a back kick. I sidestepped. I caught him with a roundhouse kick as he regained his balance, which made him bend over a little bit at the waist and gave me an opportunity. My left foot came up from behind him, over his shoulder, slammed down into his head and staggered him. This was exciting to me. I was thrilled. I was overjoyed. I was at that moment absolutely giddy. In the moment of my success. I grinned. In the middle of a fight, in the middle of the ring, I grinned around my mouth guard. And then he broke my nose with an illegal palm strike. I put my hands up. I felt the blood dripping out of my nose and warm and sticky down my chin. And I tried not to give any indication that my Vision was now a little bit distorted by cold Slavic gray clouds. The referee stepped in, stopped the fight and raised my hand, gave me a gold medal because my opponent had disqualified himself with an illegal palm strike to the face. And I felt like a fraud. I went to find my master, master limit out in the stands to bow to him and thank him for the training and do all the ceremonial stuff that was expected of me. And he said, Why you don't smiling? I said, what sir? It was baffling. Had he not seen that I had only won because my opponent had been disqualified. Could he not see that it was time to do the post mortem and devalue everything that had just happened? Could he not see that I was a. A gasping 41 year old man with blood running down his face? He said, I see he think he winning. You kick him in the head, he confused, panic punch, you, boom, you win. And I said, yes, sir. But he smacked me across the side of the head, which he did frequently, but it turns out it is more effective when you are pre concussed. He said, you know this girl, you win, you know, die now you go to hospital. Nose swearing, eyes black, you don't look good. I said, yes sir. He said, but you don't drive. Someone else drive you to hospital. You get there, they say, how are you? You say, I'm great. I feel good. Nose broken, also state champion. I said, yes, sir. And a friend drove me. I sat in the passenger seat, proud of myself a little, but mostly trying to recapture that one brief moment, that split fraction of a microsecond between landing an axe kick and having my nose broken. I had been overjoyed in that moment. And now my master had given me permission to learn from that moment, not the one that came after. And if I could just get that back just once, maybe I could begin to learn to hold onto it for a moment longer. Thank you.

Storyteller / Performer (various musical and spoken parts) (27:38)

Love this place, but I gotta keep moving. You got the best in right now. It's no illusion. It's time for fun, love. So new and young Thomas Come for new movements and we'll be singing this song when you're at it. But then we'll be better when you come out out of it. Come out of it. Yeah. Everyone wants you out here. Bath in sunlight Cold as cash is hot as lust is I don't want them. I want you. I want you.

Risk Show Host / Narrator (Kevin Allison or another host) (28:27)

This is risk. This is someone doing a song behind me now. Oh, yes, it's crystal fighters with the song Louisiana Calling, which I chose because our last storyteller Dylan Brody lives in la. That's enough of an association, right? And hey, you really should go to Amazon to look for Dylan's book. Laughs Last great book. And also hilarious that they put it in the frequently bought together with nothing to envy. Ordinary lives in North Korea. Our final story today comes to us from someone who is on our team here. The lovely and brilliant Jolenta Greenberg took a class@thestorystudio.org turned out to be such an amazing student that she helps edit the radio style stories that we feature on the show. Anyway, here she is at the risk live show in New York City with a story we call in the Rough.

Storyteller / Performer (various musical and spoken parts) (29:42)

I don't want them. Oh, how many?

Friend of Person Selling Car (29:57)

Thank you. When I was seven, I was obsessed with a very certain scene in Disney's Aladdin. It is the scene towards the beginning where Jafar goes to the Cave of Wonders to find the genie's lamp. And the cave is like a fucking tiger's head with glowing eyes. And it warns Jafar that in order to get the genie's lamp, he has to seek thee out the diamond in the rough. You guys remember that scene? Yeah. So I loved the idea of someone being a diamond in the rough, of someone being considered as sort of gross or worthless. And then all of a sudden their inner beauty is discovered and everyone wants to be their friend. I love that idea. And I started telling myself that I was a diamond in the rough because when I was seven, I started noticing that all the seven year old boys hated me. All the boys in my school started playing this game called Jolie Germs. And my nickname was Jolie. And the rules were super simple. Basically, stay away from Jolie and if she gets near you, yell at her about how gross she is. So in order to make myself feel better, I was like, you know what, Jolie? It's okay. You're a diamond in the rough. Just like Aladdin. Yeah. And someday you'll find your diamond in the Rough soulmate. And you guys will live happily ever after and make diamond in the Rough babies. And I really clung to this idea and I clung to it all throughout my adolescence up through high school until I met Brian. Now Brian was a new kid my junior year and he was super cool. Everyone liked him. Everyone wanted to be his friend. He was cute, he was southern, and he was like an angsty, tortured writer. I was the school's angsty theater kid. So we sort of started hitting it off. Brian thought I was super cool and we started hanging out all the time. And Brian Was like the first boy ever to think I was cool and, like, treat me like a person. And we would go on these late night drives and smoke clove cigarettes in his old BMW and we would talk about how, like, deep and misunderstood we both were and read poetry. And I was getting a huge crush on Brian. And on one of these late night drives, he pulled over to the side of the road and he said, I need to tell you something really important. And I was like, yes, of course. And he was like, I'm a virgin. And I was like, me too. And then he just started driving again. That was it. And so I'm sitting there in the car being like, oh, my God, like, we're both virgins. This is. This is a huge deal. Like, a lot of people aren't virgins anymore, and we're both virgins. We're artistic soulmates. Like, wait, oh my God. We're each other's diamonds in the fucking rough. And from then on, I was obsessed with the idea that Brian and I had to lose our virginities to each other. It was, like, the only thing I thought about. I wrote, like, a whole journal full of graphic descriptions of Brian and I losing our virginities to each other. It was very important. So I came up with this plan to make Brian sleep with me. And that was at the end of our late night drives. Instead of just getting out of the car, I would sort of linger and I would harness my mental power. And I would think super, super hard. And I would think, kiss me. Kiss me, Brian. Brian, kiss me. And I'd just think super, super hard. And eventually Brian had to pick up on my vibes and he would kiss me. And then we'd have sex and it would be magical, but he was not picking up on it. And I was like, that's kind of a bummer. But then something even worse happened. A party happened that I did not go to. And my friend went and she called me the next day and she said, oh, my God, you'll never guess what happened. Brian got totally wasted at the party and lost his virginity to Chelsea on a couch. Oh, wait, what? I was heartbroken. That, like, super wasn't supposed to happen. Brian was definitely supposed to lose his virginity to me because we were diamond in the rough soulmates, and not to Chelsea at a party on a couch. And to make it even worse, Chelsea was this girl at my school who everyone mistook for me all the time. Like, we were super similar. Both, like, tall and kind of awkward, but funny and a little cute and the Main difference between us was that Chelsea was a giant slut. So basically, Brian lost his virginity to the slutty version of me. And the only way I could make sense of this was to tell myself, like, I'm not a diamond in the rough. I had just been lying to myself to make myself feel better. And there's no such thing. And people just have sex with people. Drunk at parties, on couches. Get over it. So I did. I got over it. I grew up, I moved away. And years later, I was back in my hometown for the holidays. And I ran into Brian on the street. And we decided to go out to dinner and catch up. And we're out to dinner, and he's still really cute. And he's talking about how he's been in and out of different colleges. And then he just got out of rehab, and he wants to write a book about it. And it's, like, super interesting. And like I said, he's still super cute. I start talking about how I just moved to New York and I've been teaching theater in jail, and he thinks I'm super interesting, and we're sort of hitting it off. And then at some point during the conversation, he reaches under the table and puts his hand on my leg, and sparks fly. And I am flooded with all of those old diamond in the rough feelings. And I'm like, wait, oh, my God, maybe I still am a diamond in the rough. Maybe we are soulmates, and maybe now is the time for our magical moment. So I'm super excited, and he offers to drive me home. And I'm like, yes, of course. So we're driving, and he pulls over in the same spot where he told me he was a virgin. And we're sitting there in the car, and he looks into my eyes, and he leans in really close and he kisses me. And the kiss is horrible. His lips felt like these, like, cold, dead lizard lips. And he just sort of mashed them against my lips and like, darted his tongue in and out. And it was awful. And I started getting a little nervous. I'm like, okay, Brian, it's supposed to be our magical moment. Like, gotta keep this going. And so I say, take me to your house. Take me to your house. That will keep the magic going. So we go to his house, and we go to his room, and our clothes are coming off, and we're touching each other all over, and we're kissing, and it's still these fucking dead lizard kisses. And then he says, I want to go down on you, and I'm like, yes, yes. Of course, if anything fixes the magic, it's someone getting oral sex. That will solve it. So I get up on the bed, and I assume the receiving position. And instead of just going down to the foot of the bed and putting his head down there and getting to work, Brian does something a little different. He gets up on the bed next to me, and then he sort of gets up on top of me and sits on my chest and is, like, straddling my chest. And then he bends forward so his head is now in my vagina. And so he's sitting on me with his ass in my face, eating me out. And I'm looking directly.

Joel Kim Booster (38:10)

Hold on.

Friend of Person Selling Car (38:16)

I'm looking directly into his asshole. And it looks like this sort of sad, brown, crusty, hairy, little, like, brown eye looking back at me. And it's like, hey. And I'm like, hey. And it's like, so you're finally hooking up with Brian, huh? I'm like, yeah, yeah, I am. But it's super not going how I thought it would go. And it's like, well, you know, you've been waiting for this forever, so, like, enjoy. And I'm like, yeah, no, I'm super trying to, but. But, like, I don't know if he's very good at this. And, like, this just doesn't feel very magical like I wanted. And then the brown eye is like, whoa, hold on. Like, if this isn't magical, it's clearly not his fault. Like, it's obviously yours. Maybe you're not a diamond in the rough. And I'm like, seriously? So then I fake an orgasm to get the brown eye out of my face. And we're sitting there naked in his bed, and he says, I need to show you something really important. And I'm like, yes. Okay, cool. Maybe it's the book he's been writing about rehab, and that will make this interesting again. And so he reaches under his bed and he pulls out this box. And he slowly opens it and reaches inside, and he pulls out a handgun. He points the gun directly at my face. I have never seen a gun before in real life. And it was super scary. You can, like, see how heavy they are and how real they are. And I'm sitting there terrified, and he says, I have a gun now. Isn't that cool? And then he goes, pew, pew, pew. And he pretends to shoot me in the face. I then ask if he will take me home. And while I'm in the car, the same car that we used to take our drives in. I start thinking about what the brown eye said to me. That, like, this wasn't magical because I'm still not a diamond in the rough. And I'm like, you know what? No little brown eye. Maybe this wasn't magical because Brian's not that great. Maybe I had him on a pedestal because he was the first guy to ever treat me like a friend. And, like, maybe he's the guy who just gets drunk and has sex on couches and is really bad at oral sex and likes to put guns in people's faces. Like, maybe Brian is just rough. And maybe, just maybe, I still have a little diamond left in me. Thank you.

Storyteller / Performer (various musical and spoken parts) (41:55)

Woke up on Monday I wrote you a love song Wrote you a love song. The pen stopped and the paper flew out the window Rain down the road I don't know where they'll go get caught in the trees, I suppose Ripped apart by the birds on the winter winds Whisper blue fire.

Risk Show Host / Narrator (Kevin Allison or another host) (42:42)

That's all for this week, folks. This is Calexico behind me now, folks. Today's the day. Take a risk.

Storyteller / Performer (various musical and spoken parts) (43:06)

Say goodbye. To your love say a little goodbye to your love. To your love say a little goodbye to your love Goodbye goodbye to your love I'll carry the song with me every day Till I lie down my.

Risk Show Host / Narrator (Kevin Allison or another host) (44:03)

Because I'm good enough I'm smart enough and doggone it, people like me.