Good Job, Brain! is a free weekly clean* audio podcast that's part quiz show & part offbeat news. It's the ultimate nutrition for your brain. So eat up!

*no explicit language. But poop does come up sometimes all the time.

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KAREN // @momopeche

Game geek, candyfreak, bad runner.  

EXPERTISE: Geography, Hip Hop, Dogs, Patrick Swayze, Scout


COLIN // @colin13

Cannot tolerate lines that are not 100% parallel or 100% perpendicular.

EXPERTISE: Classic Rock, Academy Awards, NBA, Star Wars, Sniper


DANA // @ItsKindaSweet

Kinda sweet, kinda hilarious. Game designer extraordinaire.  

EXPERTISE: Literature, Indie Rock, Pop Culture, New Zealand, Prince, Medic


CHRIS // @kobunheat

Walking retro videogame almanac. Ravenclaw.  

EXPERTISE: US government, James Taylor, videogames, Spy


Fun-Size Mini Show: William Fakespeare





WE'RE ON SITE! We had a bit of a scheduling conflict this week because we made it to the PUB TRIVIA GRAND FINALS*. So please enjoy this little fun-size episode featuring our pal, William Fakespeare... and see if you can identify the lyrics line by line! 

*We did not win first place. Close, but no cigar. We're sad pandas.

RUNTIME: 5 minutes 2 seconds



Here is the William Fakespeare transcription:

O Sweet Cherished of Mine, O Sweet Cheeks of Thine

(Baby Got Back)

Rollover to see the original line of lyrics!

Zounds! Rebecca, witness her backside
tis brimming with heft.
The maiden resembles a harlot of nimble sharp-tongued knaves.
Alas, I know not of these men, and wherefore they parle.
The giglot shall be mistaken, filth and hiren, no less.
For the rump, tis herculean.
How spherical! The globes protrude, no?
Pray tell, her sanguine fluid flows from Moor?

I desire for dazzling damsel derrieres, I dare not deceit.
Mine kinsmen shant renounce such fact.
Whence the day-maid saunters, such petite corseted stem
Yet gluteus orbs of flesh intrude thine visage
Mine bulge. Bounced and bounded.

Back end block
robed in frock.
Mine heart stalk,
mine eyes gawk.

O! Nonpareil maiden of mine
a portrait must capture thine grace.
The brotherhood cast and cry caution
yet, effects, thine absolute ass makes. I quiver with rapture.
O! Soft seated skin of thine.
So desires a setting in mine carriage of fine.

Ravage me! Ravage me!
Wenches against thee art unmatched.
They prance in parlours, I notice
but actions of love are hopeless.
She hath perspire,
Hath loin on fire,
a racing stallion without tire.

I chide ho-hum gazettes that state:
people plead for planar posteriors.
Give me leave to ask those of ebon armor
She bears such sweet dough o flesh.

Hark, mine brothers! (Aye!) Mine Brothers! (Aye!)
Hath thine maid a round rear of real remark? (Aye! Aye!)
Do implore the ladies to flit, float, and flutter
Allow those glorious globes to spin with splendor.
O Sweet Cherished of mine, O sweet cheeks of thine.
Visage from the village of the holy angels. Backside from the borough of the mighty oak.
O Sweet Cherished of mine, O sweet cheeks of thine.



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Reader Comments (2)

Sorry to hear you didn't win! :( I bet you guys did great :)

May 7, 2013 | Unregistered CommenterIris

Seventh isn't bad! Looks like you had lots of tough competition. I'm disappointed that you didn't try harder for the costume contest.

May 7, 2013 | Unregistered CommenterLee

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