Start the day with that Friday Feeling! Wake up with Harry and Andy entertaining you through the morning.
It's the middle of the week, and your strength is begining to wane, but your timetable has not. You lie in bed, (within the boundaries of the University of York campus, the only place where URY can be heard), and you need a pick-me-up. Here I am, your best* legal resource for giving you the strength to face the morning.... by draining mine.
I have no experience, wit or charisma to speak of, but if you do at 8am then this show is not for you anyway.
I had to move my show to the evening, so that I could attend a radio training day, to get better at radio; everybody agreed this was a good idea so here we are.
Wake up to some good chat, good tunes and to a good morning.
You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there. Lokir: Darn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been half way to Hammerfell. You there. You and me -- we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants. Ralof: We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief. Imperial Soldier: Shut up back there! [Lokir looks at the gagged man.] Lokir: And what's wrong with him? Ralof: Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King. Lokir: Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they captured you... Oh gods, where are they taking us? Ralof: I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits. Lokir: No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening. Ralof: Hey, what village are you from, horse thief? Lokir: Why do you care? Ralof: A Nord's last thoughts should be of home. Lokir: Rorikstead. I'm...I'm from Rorikstead. [They approach the village of Helgen. A soldier calls out to the lead wagon.] Imperial Soldier: General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting! General Tullius: Good. Let's get this over with. Lokir: Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me. Ralof: Look at him, General Tullius the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this. This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny...when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe. [A man and son watch the prisoners pull into town.] Haming: Who are they, daddy? Where are they going? Torolf: You need to go inside, little cub. Haming: Why? I want to watch the soldiers. Torolf: Inside the house. Now. [The wagon stops near the chopping block.] Imperial Soldier: Whoa. Lokir: Why are they stopping? Ralof: Why do you think? End of the line. also a banging breakfast show.
jess and joe are tired. but they're on the radio, bringing the vibes anyway. that's called dedication.