Tag Archives: WZMB

WZMB Under Siege by Ninja Zombies?!

Heyyy, Jazz Fans! Jimmy Rudolph here! I know I’m supposed to lay down some smooth jazz on you right now, but I can’t stop screaming! WZMB is under siege by ninja zombies! I kid you not! As sure as there are zombies, there are ninja zombies, and as sure as there are ninja zombies, there are a whole squad of ninja zombies right outside my sound proof door. I know, I know, I’ve said this before when I wanted to get on New York 1, but this time I mean it! Zombies with veils and sais doing triple somersaults over the bodies of the dead WZMB security team. I suppose we’ll have to pay for those funerals. But at least we’ll have to pay for mine. Still don’t believe me? Click the video below and see for yourself!

It all started out so beautifully! I had uncovered rumors and innuendo regarding Trocador and the new Bar Code Zombies, and to verify, I bravely sent Melissa into harm’s way to get the substantiating documents. (I sent Craig the intern in, too, but that wasn’t bravery, that was common sense.) And I had those rotten bastards that sponsor the show right where I wanted them. But now, in a horrific turn of events, the zombie ninjas have me just where they want me– cowering in my studio, hoping like hell that those sais can either pick locks or gut jazz DJs, but they can’t do both. I can’t look. And if you can’t look either, jazz fans, here’s an all-radio version of the horrific gore!

I wonder what Miles Davis felt in his last few moments before the zombies got him. Oh, you’re telling me the zombies didn’t get him? That he just looks that way?! I guess you’re just trying to cheer me up, fans, but there’s no point. Even if I survive, who’s going to clean up the mess out there? I really wish J-Bo were here right now. She could always make me laugh. Plus, she kills zombies. And good with a mop, let’s not forget that…

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Jimmy Rudolph’s Funny Bootleg Vegas Video!

Well, I tried, Jazz Fans. I bribed, threatened, cajoled, and even brought my super-magnet into the New School editing bay. I did everything in my power to repress this awful video of me in Vegas! And it still erupted, like an undead B-film star, onto the Tube of You!So I say, if you can’t beat ’em, ball-gag ’em, and weep over their oiled up bodies without being caught on tape, then join ’em. Let me get some of those big fat YouTube bucks!

This is me at the Pollygrind Film Festival in Vegas-town, NV, where we were feted by the famous Chad Clinton Freeman. He invited the WZMB family out to host his ZombiePalooza night last October, and like idiots, we accepted. He was liberal with the tequila, but I make no excuses, my friends. I’m an adult, and I thought the girls were, too. By the way, J-Bo was there as well, and she is one mother of a bad influence. And we want to apologize to the bikers, but really, you should have walked away once you saw her tats. Y’know, I’m babbling, but I get nervous when I think of the assault soon to happen on your eyes. Please forgive me, and don’t flood me with negative comments. It’s all, the whole thing, it’s just so wrong…

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Scary Movies– A Fond Remembrance Pt. 4 (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

Scary movies? I wish. Heyyy, Jazz Fans, Jimmy Rudolph here from WZMB Zombie Radio Show, and it’s Thanksgiving. That puts me in the mood for reminiscin’. I remember Dad and Uncle Bert watching the game, Mom drinking in the closet, Sis listening to Donovan on the portable turntable and flicking me with tampons. Good times.

But some of my fondest memories involve walking through the fallen autumn leaves with my buddy Stu Baderscher, taking the bus into the city and going to see the latest scare-fest at the old Grindhouse movie theaters in midtown New York City. There we could see a double feature, a few previews, a couple of shorts, have a popcorn and a gallon of soda, and all it cost us was our allowance, our trust fund passbooks, some epidermal layers and a little virtue. We went back often.

Leatherface-- The Hero of our Age!

One of the highlights of these trips, apart from getting punched by Mayor Ed Koch, (I thought he was a priest– turns out he’s Jewish!) was seeing “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre“. The film had such a gritty, realistic feel, with death erupting so randomly, the evil so mundane, and the ending so abrupt, it made Stu and I pinky swear that we would never go to Texas and risk being cut in half by crazed lunatics– whereupon some crazed Costa Ricans chased a guy through the theater with a chainsaw.

But times have changed since the zombie apocalypse. Looking back on those glory hole days, it seems amazing now that I ever found Tobe Hooper‘s movie scary. I even had my neighbor illegally download it for me, and far from screaming in terror, I found myself weeping whimsical tears of loss.

Maybe in the 70’s, a deformed man running around with a chain saw was scary, but now– well, it’s downright heroic. The fact is, we need more power-tool wielding lunatics out there. With zombies roaming the streets, how are we supposed to take back the city without Leatherface, or people like him? My own producer, Jamie Bogart, has been known to run with a Black and Decker on high, laughing as bloody chunks of flesh cover her from head to toe, and no one would call her a monster, would they? (Not to her face, anyway.) Nor is Leatherface a monster, anymore. Prepared with a functioning kill tool, dapper in his suit and tie, with a mask to keep the infected meat from invading his orifices, Leatherface is a hero for today.

The scene in the slaughterhouse, where one of the dead women suddenly sits up, has completely lost its punch in the zombie era. Sorry, Mr. Hooper. It’s a horror film, not a documentary. I’ve been to seven funerals where the same thing happened, just this week. She didn’t even go for the brains of her friends. She just twitched a little. What a relief!

Texas Chain Saw Massacre- the Meal

Happy Thanksgiving!

Finally, there’s the meal scene. The family gathers together to break some bread, and maybe some head, with their new friend. Even though she rudely screams with terror throughout the entire meal (another repast killer, just like Mr. Hurt!), the family politely ignores her hysteria, even tries to laugh it off with a pleasant game of mallets n’ skulls. Hey! Lady! They’re trying to feed you, not eat you! Try walking to work through Chelsea, and see if you get the same consideration. Better yet, don’t. My ears belong to jazz, not your endless screaming.

No, Jazz Fans, “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” isn’t scary. In fact, given the current state of things, it’s heartwarming. A family picture, wherein lethal lunatics who love each other come together, young and old, for a tasty meal. And isn’t that what Thanksgiving is all about?

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Happy Veteran’s Day from Jimmy Rudolph and WZMB!

Happy Veteran’s Day, Jazz Fans! I hope you’ll take a moment to think kindly of our brave men and women who fought for our liberty.

This is Jimmy Rudolph from WZMB Zombie Radio Show. Now, fans, I never served in the military. I was exempted from service by my Congressman. But I did contribute to his war chest. And I like to think that makes me a veteran, in some small way. And even though I never toted a gun or heard a shot fired in anger, I’ve had guns toted for me, and have heard shots fired in mortal terror at oncoming zombies. And if I’ve never been shipped off to face death in foreign lands, I’ve still managed to have sex with squalid hookers from foreign lands. What I’m saying is, I stand by the veterans, or at least cower behind them.

In NYC, we have our Veteran’s Day Parade down 5th Ave. People don’t go to the parade like they used to since the zombie apocalypse. But the City Council has issued new safeguards for the participants, including a minimum speed of 45 mph, (I didn’t know those little Rotary cars could go that fast!), with emergency funding for piano razor wire and souvenir machetes that will be given to everyone that passes a sobriety test. The Queens Slapshots Kill Squad will be on hand performing maneuvers, making the event all the safer. I want to urge my fellow New Yorkers to go and wave at the Veterans as they speed by. The Veterans won’t wave back, as they need both hands on the wheel, but they’ll appreciate the gesture.

Finally, Jazz Fans, even though the national guard has steadfastly refused deployment to New York City, preferring tours of Afghanistan to fighting the urban zombie, we still find an occasional Zombie In Uniform on the street. Most days, you would be urged to lop the zombie’s head off, but for today, just this day, sheathe that machete, look that ZIU in the eye, and give it a heartfelt “Thank you”, before running in terror.

Somewhere, deep inside, he’ll be grateful for the recognition, as well as hungry for your brains.

Veteran's Day Zombie

Kickin' Ass, Takin' Brains

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Scary Movies– A Fond Remembrance Pt. 3 (Alien)

Scary Movies? I can’t remember the last time I saw a movie that scared me more than having to go to the corner deli for a bagel and a schmear, knowing full well that the smell from yesterday’s turkey had already attracted a semi-horde of zombies looking for a Jimmy Rudolph brain schmear, hold the bagel.  No, Jazz Fans, what we thought was scary back in the pre-zombie apocalypse day turns out to be wishful thinking. What used to elicit screams now only provokes an indulgent and wistful sigh. “Ah, Mr. Romero, if only we had it that good.”

Alien profile

Awww... Ain't he cute?

Jimmy Rudolph, from WZMB Zombie Radio Show here. Brewed me some vodka last night and put on an old favorite– “Alien.” I remember watching that in an NYC movie house with old flame Kendra Protacio, and I remember being terrified. Turns out Kendra was a man. The movie was pretty scary, too.

But let’s face it, the thrill has left the building, gotten devoured by the undead, and has shambled back without luster or energy. As an ultimate killing machine, virulantly hostile, lethal, and unstoppable (unless you want an acid bath,) Alien just doesn’t stack up against life in the undead lane.

First of all, an Alien is born by being implanted in a human host, then bursting out through the stomach. Sounds like childbirth to me, jazz fans, and women go through it every day. It probably would have gone smoother for John Hurt if he’d had a vagina. But all that thrashing around on the table, spilling everyone’s meal, over a few intense contractions? Man up, Mr. Hurt. Where’s that British stiff upper lip?

John Hurt

Another Good Meal-- Spoiled!

Even if the technicality of not having a vagina makes for some discomfort, there are no nerve endings in the intestine. Zombies attack from the outside, where you keep all your sensitive skin. Once they break the flesh, the Z-Gene infects your blood, creating fever, aches and pain that Midol doesn’t even take the edge off. This doesn’t last until dinner time is over. It lasts for three days. (Unless your O Negative. Lucky bastards transform instantly.) Try thrashing about on the table for three days, Mr. Hurt! (I’m sorry, he irritates me. All that spilled food. And this is space. You can’t just stop off at the deli for more.) Finally, the Zombie that is born inside you doesn’t leave your bloody husk on the table, in peace. No! You ARE the zombie that is born, and your ass gets dragged around all over the city.

Then, there’s the non-baby Alien. Say what you want about him, he’s clean. All shiny, with white teeth. He’s efficient, usually leaving you only enough time to scream non-sensical gibberish over the PA before dispatching you. And he likes to stalk you. You rarely see him coming. You can’t escape, it’s true, but you can’t spend your last moments quaking in fear, either.

Zombies, on the other hand, are filthy creatures that you can smell coming from a mile away.They’d make you gag, if you weren’t already gagging over the sight of your own blood. They’re woefully pathetic killers, sometimes gnawing for hours on your leg before realizing that the brain is in the skull. And they’ll chase you for hours. They have to. It takes them hours to catch up. But their sheer numbers make them lethal. You should be able to defeat them easily, but you can’t. It’s like a nightmare of running in sand with a dulled machete, and you can feel yourself just giving up as the hordes close in.

Now, that’s scary.

Take note, Mr. Scott. Word is out you’re working on an Alien tie-in movie,  “Prometheus.”Let’s see if you can get it right this time. Because we need explosive horror on the screen in order to distract us from the explosive horror of real life.

And Kendra, stop calling me! Seriously!

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