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  • 20| Strawberry Vanilla Suppositories Are In Right Now

    20| Strawberry Vanilla Suppositories Are In Right Now
    Dec 29 2025
    Sugar-ridden students make for the most energetic mascots. For the first time in a LONG TIME, high-fiving Principal Fendleton is OPTIONAL. Remember, kids, don't ingest unlabeled pills unless they're from a school vending machine. There are no urine stains in my office, and that makes me very uneasy and concerned. Ricky Frampton built a racist lawn chair. Fun Fact: Our newest teacher, Dr Personold, wears a cologne that smells like Play-Doh. At least, I assume it's cologne. Security chimeras? More like [punny one-liner that is also an insulting slight]. Thank you to ()hole Milk and Shart Through the Heart for sponsoring. Music for this episode was performed by Joshua Morgan. You can find more of his work at joshuamorganmusic.bandcamp.com This month's parody song is Gold Rush of '49. Lyrics: I got my first steel pick axe, with a wooden handle whittled from pine. Mined until my hands were numb. Twas the gold rush of '49. Me and the boys went west. Got a wagon and packed it tight. Turns out, the compass was broken. The only gold we found was pyrite. Oh, now when I recollect to times when I was chased by beavers. Runnin' from a wild fire. I fished for trout and caught a fever. Those were the worst days of my life. Me and the boys were trailblazin', fighting dysentery and raccoons. Did some trading with a jolly snake oil salesman. Those elixirs were just jars of poo. Sneaking onto private land. Mining rocks and finding more rocks. A boulder fell and crushed my hand. Gangrene set in then I got chickenpox. Those were the worst days of my life. Oh no. Back in the gold rush of '49. Panning for gold all week. Wading in the river until our groins turned green. Penicillin was not dicovered. No, noooo. And now my life is collapsing. Like that gold mine, it all came down. Dynamite, it took my hearing. And some fingers and toes are gone. Stranded without a torch. Lost my way and fell in a river. With leeches sucking on my hand, I gave them names and thought my life was over. Those were the worst days of my life. Oh nooo. At least those leaches kept me company. It was the hell hole of 49. Oh no. My wife, she left me in '49, '49 oh noo.

    Please share this with anyone that you think may enjoy it. I don't know where to find my audience! :|
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    31 Min.
  • 19| Security Chimeras Are Watching Us All

    19| Security Chimeras Are Watching Us All
    Nov 22 2025
    The security chimeras protect us all from the dangerous effects of graffiti. New lore just dropped disguised as a story about Traumanonymous. Students, you're not pirates and, as such, our janitors will be sanitizing your salty language. Let's give a hand to Kids With Crocs and welcome back our old school mascot! The horticulture class will be planting trees yesterday. No, secret hatch was not found in the Mascots' Lounge. Thank you to our sponsors The Seemetery and What to Expect When You're Expecto-Patronuming. The music for this episode was performed by Chelicerae. You can find more of their music at chelicerae.bandcamp.com
    Purchasing Chelicerae's latest EP, Repulsion, sends all profits to a Gazan in need. If you wish to support Amjad directly CLICK HERE. This Vice Principal Mr Jonesandmi played Trombones, a parody of Them Bones by Alice in Chains. Lyrics: Why? Why? Why? Symphony, trombone they need. Complain, "What else is there to play?" Denied piano, they're sending me to the mouth breathers with trombones. Why? Why? Why? Lips dry, valve opens and spit flies. Can't beat the snare or timpani. No go xylophone, they're throwing me to the brassholes blowing trombones. Tuba, no room, no luck. I cry, "Guitar would be so nice." Don't need saxophone—gonna be forced to interact with gross- Can't blow piccolo—gonna blow chunks in bass clef with bozos. No spot for oboe—the woodwinds tell me, "Shut up, play your trombone."

    Please share this with anyone that you think may enjoy it. I don't know where to find my audience! :|
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    22 Min.
  • 18| Unmarked Windowless Vans Contain Candy

    18| Unmarked Windowless Vans Contain Candy
    Oct 25 2025
    That mascot pep-off sure got violent. But that violence led to Bethany Greenwick reclaiming her title as school mascot! Who says violence solves nothing? Students, the GPS tracker to be installed in you will be quite painfull-less-ish... Keep your eyelids peeled, again, for Mr Frito's missing glass eye, again! Sports are happening, and we are telling you about them. Take a deep breath; September is plastic bag awareness month. The shortage of available teachers is a key issue that I am keeping an eye on. Thank you to our sponsors Chest Mix and the Tetwrist PSA. Music for this episode was performed by Jemmy Joe. You can listen to more of his tunes at JemmyJoe.bandcamp.com This month's parody song is Take My Breast Away. Lyrics: A man is to be executed by the guillotine. His one last request: to suckle on a maiden's teat. With much reluctance, I drop my breast upon his face. I trip forward, push him out, my boob takes his face's place. Then they drop the blade. Take my breast away. Drinking at a bar, I've entered a wet T-shirt contest. Posing like the best, somebody dumps liquid on my chest. Everybody's screaming, no one yells louder than me. The water bucket was actually the deep fryer grease. It melts my flesh away. Through the store window you saw me sawing off a mannequin's chest. I was tackled by security; the man is keeping me suppressed. My breasts they confiscate. This can't be my fate. Take the chest away. Take my breast away. Chilling on my porch, a turkey waddles up to me. I bonk it on the head, pluck it, cook it, and start to eat. Kicking down my door, secret service agents pull their guns. This turkey was free; the president issued pardons. They take my turkey breast away. Take my breast away.

    Please share this with anyone that you think may enjoy it. I don't know where to find my audience! :|
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    23 Min.
  • 17| The Cheerleaders Formed a Pyramid Scheme

    17| The Cheerleaders Formed a Pyramid Scheme
    Sep 25 2025
    Billyvonne (Billy Turner's soul inside Yvonne's body) is doing a great job as school mascot! ...aside from that basketball game. Book Fair is here! And Bobby Warner has returned to Jambalaya!! Dads are being real obnoxious with this FART nonsense. BUY ENERGY SLOP. CONSUME ENERGY SLOP. Please. And use my coupon code: HELPME at checkout. Talk to Coach Larson about joining the Tract and Field team today! Sheild your childrens' ears from the addictive reverberations of kazoos. Thank you to The Kayak and to, uh, Shards of Glass, I guess. Music on Shards of Glass by hellanearth.bandcamp.com
    Music for this episode was performed by jemmyjoe.bandcamp.com
    This month's parody song is Virgins of Virginia. Lyrics: I've been day trading stocks. Working half days. Over nine hours since I got laid. So I scroll on my phone, checking sports bets I've made. Drive to the gym while hitting that vape. It's a miracle...what nepotism can do for chads like me, not soyboys like you. Wish I could just wake up without hangovers, too, but I can't. Or I won't. Living like an alpha male dating young girls. These virgins of Virginia—lord knows they're hitting the books and not the bicep curls. Wanna binge watch Star Trek, join NASA on the Moon. Well if they wanna trek stars—astronauts work out, too. Meanwhile I chat with hot singles living in my area. Unlike virgin men of Virginia. I pay mathmeticians to count up the number of nines and tens I bedded last year. I've gotta hit my macros. I missed a meal, and it shows. And now my protein intake feels bare. Well if you're nearsighted with glasses big and round, eating microwave meals, slurping ramen noodles down, drinking large amounts of soda that'd make a toddler drown, going to arcades instead of going to pound town. LARPing in the woods with soda can tab ring mail, throwing pebbles for spells, growing pimples, looking pale, at the Rennaisance Fair, playing cards on hay bales. Oh, it's true. Oh, it's true. Livin' like a beta male with a neck beard. These virgins of Virginia—lord knows they'll hook you with World War Two trivia. Well they think we don't think. But I think that we do. And I do think when I drink my thinking inproves. I'll sneak whiskey to a test—SAT drunk ninja. Unlike virgin men of Virginia. Flexing in the mirror, I could stare all day, repressing thoughts that are kind of gay.

    Please share this with anyone that you think may enjoy it. I don't know where to find my audience! :|
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    25 Min.
  • 16| No Vaporizing On Campus

    16| No Vaporizing On Campus
    Aug 24 2025
    Stop giving away cafeteria apples to Mz Fulcrum; she's not even as hot as Mr Minotaur. Though Principal Fendleton vaporizes students (and smokes a couple packs of cigarettes per day) neither are allowed on campus. Francine did what no student has done before; I'm still shaking. Guess who the mascot is! Mr Johnson is still turning in his grave—don't you worry. STAY OUT OF THE MASCOTS' LOUNGE. Well, the Billy Turner is back from the grave, and he's kind of a jerk. Thank you to our sponsors, Chodelula Hot Sauce and Albers Pre-Kissed Grits, as well as Budweiser. Music is from the album Variegata by Misguided Merman. This month's parody song is 99 Dead Baboons. Lyrics: You and I, we were at the zoo, Pressing face to glass ogling the baboons. We watched them eat and hump the day away Until we heard an announcement say A gigantic mistake has been made. Everyone needs to evacuate. Explosions boomed from right behind And 99 dead baboons flew by. 99 dead baboons. This oughta make the evening news. Missing limbs, that must've hurt. Detached butt cheeks in the dirt. What's that there up in the sky? 99 bald eagles cry. They're swooping down and picking up 99 dead baboons for lunch. 99 bald eagles carry 99 corpses so hairy. Just when they have flown away, Canadian jet planes have come to play. They're flying through the shared airspace, Hitting avians of every race. Their engines clog, better eject now, As 99 dead baboons fall down. 99 monkeys in flight, Silhouetted by blinding light. Plane pieces fall everywhere, Eagles screeching, burning hair. Far below them on the ground, NASA astronauts count down. Their rocket shoots into the sky. With animals and jets, it does collide. And 99 dead eagles get fried. Burning up in the atmosphere, Eagles and jets disappear, But the monkey bodies float away. I'll never forget this day. Now, when I look up to the stars, I spot Venus, I see Mars. But, orbiting around the moon, Are 99 dead baboons.

    Please share this with anyone that you think may enjoy it. I don't know where to find my audience! :|
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    23 Min.
  • 15| Caution Sweat Floor/Cuidado Piso Sudor

    15| Caution Sweat Floor/Cuidado Piso Sudor
    Jul 21 2025
    What, you've never seen a sweat floor before now? Don't stare, and watch your step. Tough luck for Braydon; I was really rooting for him not to get totally disintegrated by Principal Fendleton's left hook. Witness me and my bus racing! Whoever reheated cod in the teachers' lounge microwave is gonna get a slap across the back for a job well done. The school only has so many orphans to give away to Home Ec. Students—PLEASE keep the one you have been given ALIVE FOR THE DURATION OF THE WEEK. Oh my goodness, navigating this robot around campus is so much fun; perhaps, when it's got a bigger battery, I'll wheel over to my teenage self's secret spot. Oster has sponsored our school, and I cannot wait for the Jambalaya Oster Microwaves to dry out the competition! The Rat King is a Rat B@$+@rd! Music for this episode was performed by Misguided Merman. You can find more ambient tracks and hip-hop songs at soundcloud.com/misguidedmerman
    Thank you to Dannon's Actibia, Dos Ekans Premium Pokemon Lager, and Budweiser. This month's parody song was Wicked Grime. Lyrics: You drag me outside with the intention of playing a sport. Rain is disturbing the grounds of the basketball court. I never dreamed I would step on a field so muddy. You pass the ball with the gall to say, "one-v-one me." But I don't want to ball in mud (this world is only gonna soil your pants). No I don't wanna ball in mud (this world is only gonna stain your slacks) with you. With you. You ask me if I've ever watched Ninja Warrior. Add dirt and water and, baby, you've got the Tough Mudder. It's an adult playground where you only get dirtier. On hands and knees, under barbed wire, please say no more. 'Cause I don't want to crawl in mud (this world is only gonna soil your pants). No, I don't wanna crawl in mud (this world is gonna add caca to your khakis) with you. You were on fire and screaming, "I'm burning; help me!" But the only path to you was down a wet mucky street. I held a pail of water that could put your flames out. But I turned away, voted nay, and ignored your shout. 'Cause I don't wanna walk in mud (this world is only gonna soil your pants). No, I don't wanna fall in mud (this world is only gonna tarnish your trousers) for you. (This world is only gonna dirty your denim). For you. (This world is only gonna smear your sweats). (This world is only gonna blemish your bootcuts). (This world is only gonna pollute your pleats). Nobody should love mud.

    Please share this with anyone that you think may enjoy it. I don't know where to find my audience! :|
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    24 Min.
  • 14| Yeah, We Shadow-Dropped Toilet Bowls

    14| Yeah, We Shadow-Dropped Toilet Bowls
    Jun 27 2025
    Three hurrahs for mascot DNA splicing! Don't talk to my son until he's had his coffee. Yooo we shadow dropped toilet bowls last week. You're all so smelly. I am become my own HR person. ASB elections were a suprise upset, and I owe Mr Stanovich fifteen bucks. If I have to think about that hand turkey again, I know I'll puke. These unsactioned Jambalaya podcasts are bringing me to my whit's end. If I had a child and caught them listening to one of these illicit audiotapes, I would make them listen to the whole catalogue—episodes back-to-back-to-back-to-back, until they threw up. Music for this episode was performed by Maxfield. Check out his album VROOM VROOM here.
    Instagram here | Shedule a tattoo!
    Thanks to our sponsors, Slowgurt and MoccaSins. Breaking the KitKat lyrics: Reese's won't do. I'm craving something new. I want something that snaps in two. I can't conclude which candy I should choose. Too many options call to me. I don't want to eat a chocolate bar that looks like poo, with sticky caramel that hampers my mouth when I chew. I don't know what I'm looking for, but it's too cold for ice cream. Klondike Bars are off the table, as are Boston Baked Beans. So much candy bends and stretches—I wan't something hard. So I'm breaking the KitKat. I'm breaking the KitKat Bar. Empty wrapper. I've gotta find some more. 3 Musketeers—more like three out of ten. Mr. Bad Bar, I threw you very far—unfit for human consumption. I'm too insecure to pick the veiny Snickers on the shelf. And Butterfinger crumbles easily and without help. I Whoppers aren't worth paying for. And Hershey's cocoa's cheap. It barely meets the minimum requirements to be...classified as chocolate—what the crap—that's not alright. So I'm breaking the KitKat. I'm breaking the KitKat—no bite. I'll stack KitKats so tall, encase myself in it all—a KitKat cocoon den. I'll emerge diabetic. I now know what's worth fighting for, and Milky Way ain't it. KitKat has variety like churro and green tea. If birthday cake and chocolate frosted donut sounds real nice, I am breaking the KitKat. I'm breaking the KitKat. I'm breaking the KitKat King Size.

    Please share this with anyone that you think may enjoy it. I don't know where to find my audience! :|
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    20 Min.
  • 13| The Chemistry Lab Floor is Lava

    13| The Chemistry Lab Floor is Lava
    May 25 2025
    The floor is lava; go figure. Elections are here, cool kids! Those shifting halls in the high school are hiding a door that has been long lost to this school. Mr Minotaur is leading the charge (safely behind a wall of students) into the catacombs to battle the combat enhanced rat king! Woah, who could have seen the twist the came from the Egg Board of 'Merica? Music for this episode was performed by Jemmy Joe. You can find lots more of his eclectic work at jemmyjoe.bandcamp.com. Thank you to our sponsors, Serfs-to-air missiles and the Cunnilanguish Public Service Announcement. And, of course, thank you to Budweiser. Vice Principal parodied The Rolling Stones' song Wild Horses with his version, Mild Hot Sauce. Lyrics: Hot sauce? No thank you. Salsa? No Gracias. The spiciest thing I put in my mouth has got to be mint floss. Ketchup is straight fire. Mustard cranks the hog. Pickles bathed in vinegar make me sweat like a dog. And mild hot sauce brings my mouth so much pain. Mild, mild hot sauce makes my tears fall like rain. You watched me sweat, eating a tomato. My forehead is so wet. Are you sure it's not a habanero? I ate a deviled egg. My tongue went straight to hell. Paprika knocked me down a peg. Satan scalds me with his spell. And mild hot sauce brings biblical flames. If my tongue is Abel, than Tabasco is Cain. On peppercorns I'm choking. Country gravy leaves my tongue tied. Both my ears are smoking, and my taste buds are fried. Frank's Red Hot can suck it. Sriracha, go die. I would buy Sweet Baby Ray's, but that stuff makes me cry. And mild hot sauce brings out the whips and chain. Mild, mild hot sauce leaves me cleaning up stains. Mild hot sauce—all aboard the pain train. Mild, mild hot sauce—the last stop is my taint.

    Please share this with anyone that you think may enjoy it. I don't know where to find my audience! :|
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    23 Min.