264 episodes

This is the audio-only version of the daily morning show JackAM which airs every weekday 7am-9am PST. (Twitch.tv/JackAM)

JackAM FM JackAM

    • Comedy
    • 4.9 • 55 Ratings

This is the audio-only version of the daily morning show JackAM which airs every weekday 7am-9am PST. (Twitch.tv/JackAM)

    The Mood To Engage

    The Mood To Engage

    The hydraulic hiss of an automatic blast door signaled an arrival and turned the heads of all those on the bridge, and aside from the quiet trills and electronic burbles from the wall-to-wall navigational equipment, all was frozen. “C-Captain” said one of the turned heads attached to the body of Ensign Lobell, the newest edition to the starship’s crew. He straightened both his posture, and his fleet uniform at once, scaly green hands smoothing ruffled fabric. The Captain however did not acknowledge the freshmen. He stood tall in front of the blast door, his arms folded. The term “no nonsense” had settled into the Captains eyes and etched creases in his frown. “What in the seven hells is going on here?” he said and gestured to the center of the room where, prior to his entrance, all the attention in the bridge had been focused. Aided by the Captains exclamation the attention of the room turned once more to the two figures near the Captain's chair, they were frozen in the wobbly straining way of two performers fighting gravity to hold still. Petty Officer Dietz was the name of the taller scrawnier figure on the ground in a position that wasn’t so much “sitting up” as it was being held up, forcibly at that by a shorter much brawnier creature, with rocklike skin and sharp protruding tusks from either corner of his mouth. He had the front half of Dietz’s red shirt balled up into one giant fist, while the other fist was frozen in air halted on it’s return trip to Dietz’s swelling face. The rock creature opened his fist and let loose Dietz’s shirt, the action punctuated with the subsequent slam of Dietz’s torso on the floor and a pitiful sigh of pain. The Rock Creature straightened up and turned to face the Captain. “Sir I—” the creature began in a low gravelly tone.
    “Explain yourself Allison.” interrupted The Captain. “Well sir he uh..” began Allison “He was, he was being really annoying and...”
    “Fighting? On the bridge? this isn’t like you Corporal, look at yourself you cant even give me a straight answer”
    Just then the blast door hissed once again, and with the sound came a females voice, “Leave him be Captain, he’s in the mood to engage”
    “Excuse me,” replied the Captain “just where do you come off Lieutenant Raft?”
    “His species sir, the Postarr?” Said Lieutenant Raft as she walked to the Captains side. “Every so often they get like this: antagonistic, short-fuse. They need an outlet, or else...” The Lieutenant gestured to Petty Officer Dietz, still on the floor but now being treated by the medical team.
    “Nonsense, I’ve traveled with the Corporal for years, Lieutenant, i’ve never seen anything like this.”
    “You know they're a combative people Captain, when you took him on board, didn’t you wonder why we didn’t see more of this?”
    “Well no I..”
    “It’s posting sir, that’s how he’s been sublimating his genetic need for combat. And we’ve been in non-federation space for days now which means..”
    The Captain closed his eyes and tapped his forehead with his palm. “No internet”
    “Precisely.” Said Lieutenant Raft.
    Topics Discussed on Todays Show:
    The Mood to engage, Akon City, MCAG, and Happy Birthday Leslie Lee!
    Show Originally Aired 08/18/20 -- VOD Link: https://www.twitch.tv/videos/713991226

    • 2 hr
    Jackass: America

    Jackass: America

    In the control room a young man in a white lab coat flicked his eyes across a bevy of monitors, sweat pouring from his brow. His superior was crouched over him studying the same images. Suddenly the young man's eyes snapped wide and he shouted into his headset. “The readings, they’re off the chart! it’s a code yello— no! It's a code red news! Code red news!” A second after the announcement was made the klaxons throughout the building cried out in echo like a wounded animal at the bottom of a well, vrrt! vrrt! vrrt! vrrt! With each burst of sound came fresh flashes of hell as the red signal lights mounted on the walls of the complex winked crimson. The entire staff of the WTFD organization was in frantic motion: ensigns and marshalls, captains and cadets, bolted through and across corridors and briefing rooms as if hell were on their heels and perhaps this time, it was. During the commotion a man stood in the quiet of the hospital wing. He was on the verge of tears. Though it may have been chaos everywhere else, that was out there. Out there where the hell-lights, the alarms and the shouts of orders by red faced men and women meant something to somebody, but in here —none of that mattered not to him. So he stood. He stood and watched a hot woman with pink hair sleep soundly in one of the hospital beds in front of him. Bandages covered both her arms, the crown of her head and her left eye. She was attached to an IV that dripped at a rate as steady and strong as the beeps from the ECG machine nearby. “Jack…” Said a voice suddenly behind the man. “If you won’t handle the news...Cait will.” Still watching Cait, the hot woman with pink hair, as she rested bruised and battered, the tears Jack held were left to fall and his hands curled into fists. “You son of a bitch…” He said through clenched teeth.
    “It’s a code red Jack..” warned the voice. “YOU SON OF A BITCH” screamed Jack and then there was silence. Just the beeping of the machines and the muted cries of danger outside. “Will you do it?” returned the voice, patient and as cold as a clear harvest. Jack hated that voice, all his life he had hated it so very deeply. And taking in a deep shuddering breath he wiped his tears and snot with the back of his hand. “Yeah...” he said in a hoarse whisper and then turned to face the owner of that wretched voice, his own fists trembling with rage. “I’ll do the goddamn freaking news.”
    Topics discussed on today's episode: GooGoo vs Teigan, Dots Discourse, A Cheeto in the Whitehouse, and JackAss: America

    • 1 hr 43 min
    Rhyme Combinator

    Rhyme Combinator

    ---Epic Rap Battle of History: Jack Allison vs. Lin Manuel Miranda.---

    Jack Allison:
    Its Jack Allison droppin beats like some ballast son, a weed gamer I keep a vape on me like a talisman. Aye Lin Manuel—

    Lin Manuel:
    Yo yo!

    Jack Allison:
    You aint no Vader, i’ma grind you with these verses and, smoke ya later.

    Lin Manuel:
    Yo! It’s Lin Manuel, too swell, the smooth villain, i’ma playwrite—

    Jack Allison:
    Yeah you play right.

    Lin Manuel:
    And you just play fight, you too bitter, you’re a poster?

    Jack Allison:
    Yeah a poster.

    Lin Manuel:
    Then you’ll be on my wall kid. And a coaster?

    Jack Allison:
    Huh a coaster?

    Lin Manuel:
    You’re just floating through life, kid, I'm a self made captain trappin back from the theatre—

    Jack Allison:
    Back of the theatre? Thats funny son, try the front row. When Obama was at Hammy homie where did you go?

    Lin Manuel:
    Yo, that’s not..look lets not start this shit.

    Jack Allison:
    S***s been started and Imma light your ass like I sparked a zip. So close your mouth, hold your tongue and just bite your lip.

    • 1 hr 43 min
    What The Freaking Deuce?

    What The Freaking Deuce?

    Jack sipped stale water from a disposable plastic cup and set it down. He was in a small room, bare but for a silver square table that now held his cup and three silver chairs two on one side and one on the other—occupied. He was alone for the moment, but didn’t doubt the return of his guests. On the same side of the room that contained the only door, ran a long length of opaque glass in which he could see the buzzing light of the twin fluorescents overhead glaring back at him. Jack’s restless legs hadn’t ceased since he was brought in, and the light jingle of the keys in his pocket were as constant as the beeps of an ECG machine. Jack took no notice of this, even when the sound ceased abruptly as the door swung open. The two detectives had returned to the room and the jingle in Jack's pocket soon after. The pair took their seats across from him. The brown haired one, presumably the lead, dragged his chair in closer and leaned forward placing both forearms on the table, his hands clasped together. He stared into Jack’s eyes, while the blonde one opened up a laptop device on the table and attached what looked to be one of those small cash register printers, Jack recognized from those old-timey vids. Just then the brown haired one withdrew what looked to be a small cylindrical tube with a rounded end from his coat pocket and handed it to Jack. “Mr. Allison, if you would hold this for the duration of our meeting, we’d greatly appreciate it”he said. Jack started to sweat, and didn’t notice the increased frequency of the sound of his chiming keys. He nodded and took the item. “Good, there’s nothing to be nervous about Mr. Allison, I’m just going to ask you a few questions, and when you’d respond, I’d ask that you speak directly into that round part there.” He pointed at the tube held in Jack’s hand and Jack nodded. “Very good, now Mr. Allison some very important schedule IV androids went off the grid in your area sometime last night. Are you familiar with schedule IV droids Mr. Allison?” Jack nodded. “Speak, please Mr. Allison” instructed the detective. “Y-yes, sir” Jack said, projecting his voice into the tube, and as he did so he heard a squealing, scratching sound, he jumped slightly and realized that it had come from the printer. The detectives showed no sign that they had noticed. Whatever Jack had said had caused the machine to print a sequence of scribbles on the protruding strip of paper. “Good Mr. Allison.” continued the detective, “Then you know that they can look like anyone, me--” he pointed to himself, “Detective Hollbeck--” he pointed to the blonde detective operating the laptop. “Or even...you.” Jack gulped, and nodded. “Good, and as we know although they might look like us, Androids can't necessarily reason, like us. There's a certain level of humanity that they lack you see making it possible to find them by just simply asking the right questions, understand?” Jack nodded. “Good. Now let's start with an easy question. You are on a country road. It’s night, you can hear the owls hooting and the frogs croaking in the distance. You reach a bridge. On that bridge you see a bacon wrap, as well as some sawwse. What do you do?” When the detective had finished asking the question, It was then that the chime of Jack’s keys became loud enough to notice.
    Topics discussed on today’s episode include: What the Freaking Duece? Jack is on one, Trump floats delaying election, The Death of Movie Theatres, The NewsRoom and Bacon Wrapping da Sawwse.
    Today’s episode aired on: 07/30/20 — https://www.twitch.tv/videos/695237677

    • 2 hr 4 min
    The Knife

    The Knife

    “Come on, come on...” Jack Allison pleaded breathless as he gripped the sides of what looked to be an ordinary air conditioner. It was mounted to one of the windows in the large room that was his but unfamiliar. Various expensive gadgets and high-tech tools lined the walls, most of whose functions he could only guess at. Just then a loud bang came from the reinforced steel door at the other end of the room and Jack jumped. His pulse quickened and he could hear harsh Germanic shouts and the robotic clomp and whirr of something massive from beyond the door. He didn’t have much time. “Why won’t you, work!” As he shouted this two things happened: The first being that the air conditioner suddenly blinked to life it’s simplistic LED display vibrant in green numerals. The second thing to happen concerned that of the thing on the opposite side of the door, the thing appeared to have adopted a new strategy to gain entry, evident by the slow moving molten line that began to form on the door tracing a large circle. Acrid black smoke began to writhe into the room. Quickly Jack used the soft plastic embedded arrows on the front of the air conditioner to manipulate a setting that had once been labeled by the manufacturer as “temp”, but had since been duct taped over with a new label that read: “time”. Jack frantically tapped the down arrow on the time setting, until the readout flashed: 07/28/20. He then slammed his finger down on the power button, just as a loud crash went off behind him resulting in a large circular cut of hissing steel on the floor outlined in bubbling orange. Through the smoke Jack could see the silhouette of something huge and misshapen looming in the circular opening. It barked something at him in German. Jack snapped back to the air conditioner console and could hear it starting up, the high pitched whine and the whirr of the fan coalesced to sound something akin to a fighter jet gearing up, and after a few seconds one-hundred fighter jets, a thousand. Jack’s skin was covered with frost now, looking as if he were rolled in flour. Just then a gun went off, hardly heard over the noise of the air conditioner and a bullet struck nearby nearly hitting the AC. —Ten-thousand jets. Jack had to hold onto the floor-mounted craftsman table nearby, his frozen fingers burning in numbness. The force of the AC lifted his body and his legs dangled in the cool rushing air like a windsock. The German shouts and the whirring-clomp behind him didn’t cease, in fact it sounded close, too close. Jack didn’t scream when he felt the metal claw of the German thing grip his ankle, nor could he as the force from the AC was too great. With all of his strength he twisted and kicked and flailed until finally —finally he felt the grip loosen and fall away, just as the AC reached the sound of one-million fighter jets. Just then there was a bright flash of light and suddenly Jack found himself in some place familiar. The shades to his office were pulled back and sunlight filled the room. Frostless and calm he picked himself up off the floor, and spent the rest of the day unmounting the AC, dismantling it and, dumping the parts in recycling bins all across the county. When he arrived home he reluctantly deleted and purged the only harddrive which had ever held the encrypted folder titled: “1,000,000 BTU Project Files”
    Topics Discussed On Today’s Episode Include: BTU’s, Have Fun Out There!, DNC Platform, Ellen, and The Knife!
    Today’s Episode Aired on 07/28/20 — VOD: https://www.twitch.tv/videos/693217667
    Read The Bugzine! www.thebugzine.com

    • 1 hr 41 min
    Hex The Police

    Hex The Police

    Topics Discussed on Today's Episode Include: Moon Hex, Ghislaine in the Membrane, Baseball Under Covid, Kanye West and Cait's Clear Harvest!

    Episode Originally Aired on: 07/22/20 — VOD:https://www.twitch.tv/videos/686271231

    • 2 hr 3 min

Customer Reviews

4.9 out of 5
55 Ratings

55 Ratings

Mew1112 ,

the dump

just binge the dump ok?

JennG8853 ,

Epstein Theorist

Jack is adequate. Cait is exceptional. Kenny is baby. I started listening to the podcast and have since upgraded to pocket streamer/VOD watcher. I have ambitions to join the illustrious chat but will forever be a Castie at heart.

Eli Hodapp ,

Why does this exist?

I have no idea why anyone would spend their time listening to clearly the most inferior way of experiencing the daily fantastic experience of the live JackAM (pronounced “keyt-ef-em”) Twitch show, but the cool thing about Jack and Cait is they’re always willing to go above and beyond what their fans are asking for! Sure, you miss out on the chat, and the video, but I guess if you can only enjoy the show by listening on wax cylinders on your Edison phonograph then... Hey, who am I to stop you? One of these days the advent of moving pictures and interactive chat might make it to your timeline.

Top Podcasts In Comedy

Listeners Also Subscribed To