UF/UF 180 Franken-stine

Moore-Franken 2020! No? Well, at least it appears they have something in common. Creepy-ness.

No one is getting the Big Story when it comes to Donna Brazile’s  book and revelation. We do.

Oh, and you can’t miss our discussion of Miss Bumbum. C’mon, just that is worth the listen.

Here’s the new procedure. The link below will take you to our new content carrier and you can listen from there. Or, act like it’s 2017 and subscribe to us on iTunes.



Miss Bumbum 2017. It’s better than looking at the creepy picture of Al Franken again.

UF/UF 179: Oh Donna!

Ok, just for clarity, we don’t really like Donna Brazile, but now we fear for her safety.

And according to some excerpts from her book, so does she.  Donna, when you throw dirt on the Clintons, girl, better strap up.

Hey, heads up Houston Texans, don’t be hot house flowers. Man up, fellas.

From the Nashville research department, who knew snails had memories? Or brains, even? Apparently memories can be erased, and you’re…..sorry, what was I saying?

But you gotta listen, ‘Merica. We don’t do it for the fame, we do it for the truth.

Now do us a favor and go to iTunes and subscribe to Unfiltered Unfettered. and tell your friends if you have any.

Also, you can now find us on Soundcloud, if that’s a preference. Go to Soundcloud and search Unfilteredunfettered

Doesn’t she look like she could’ve been your favorite Aunt?

UF/UF 178 “Don’t let the door hit you….”

Is it a republican exodus or a house-cleaning? Depends on who you listen to.

Well, we’ll sort it out on the “Halloween Spooktacular.”

Meanwhile, we still don’t know anything more about the largest mass murder in American history. hmmmm.

And, to honor our Spooktacular, we name our top five movie villains.

I mean, you have to listen to that. You’re welcome America, but we don’t do it for the accolades.


Corker-Flake 2020? I kinda don’t think so.


Uf/UF 165: Octopussy

From Russia with Love

 Or something like that. Just when you thought Boris Badenov and Natasha Fatale weren’t real. Well, the Trump administration can’t shake the Russia stuff because, well, this time it’s actually their fault. Hey, just grab em by the Octopussy. The bigger question is; why would you need to go to Russia to get dirt on Hillary? Also, there’s a few things aggravating us here at UF/UF. We clear the air. Take heed.

But you gotta listen.  

Or come find us like this:

Go to iTunes and subscribe to Unfiltered Unfettered, and tell your friends if you have any.

You’re Welcome America!


vell, hello Jr., how are you dahlink? Vee should talk, yes?

UF/UF 160 Media Meltdown

UF/UF 160 Media Meltdown


This week, we will look at the journalistic concept of “I hate you, but hey, I can still be fair.”  Yea, maybe not so much. Listen for yourself.

Man down! The Pope had commitments this week and the Bully goes solo.  It’s not the same but I did what I could.

Who’s bungling what?

I just don’t know how a robber as dumb as the one the murdered Seth Rich (in what the authorities call a ‘bungled robbery’) is smart enough to elude the authorities for over a year. But hey, just call me crazy.   

But you gotta listen.

Go to iTunes and subscribe to Unfiltered Unfettered, and tell your friends if you have any.

You’re Welcome America!

Well, at least they love each other.

UF/UF 153: The New Normal

President Trump delivers his first speech to the joint session. He behaved himself and delivered a good speech with some special moments. When Van Johnson says “that’s when he became the president” you know he did something right. The democrats counter-attack with more accusations. Jeff Sessions says (in your best Steve Martin voice), “well reeee-cuuuuuse meeeeah.” I linked it below for you juniors. Because we do more.

Plus, we discuss the disaster of Lake Titicaca. Giggle all you want, but its real and it’s a disaster. But, not our disaster, so who cares, right?

And RIP to Bill Paxton.

But to get all the sordid details, you gotta listen.

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RIP Hudson.


Twas the Night Before an Election Christmas

Twas the Night Before an Election Christmas


‘Twas the night of the election, when all thro’ the land
All the people were stirring, with a scotch in their hand,
The votes were being counted in polling places with care,
In hopes that a new president soon would be there;
The democrats were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of bloated programs danced in their heads

And Hillary in in her ‘kerchief, and Bill in his cap,
They’d just settled down and thought, we’ll win this, it’s a snap!‌
When into the night there arose such a clatter,
Voters sprang from their beds to see what was the matter.
Away to their big screens they flew like a flash,
Grabbed the remote, punched the on button in a dash.
The screens they lit up with a news-worthy glow,
Giving high-def luster to what result would show,
When, what to their wondering eyes should appear,
But a new president, not who they expected, oh dear,
With their cheers falling silent, they felt like a chump,
They knew in a moment, it was Donald J. Trump.
More rapid than eagles his nominees they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now Sessions, now Carson, now Mattis and Ross,
“On Kelly, on Price, on Chao and Devoss;
“To the top of the cabinet! To the top of the wall!
“Now dash away! Dash away! Get confirmed all!”
As liberals before micro-aggressions would fly,
When they lose an election, they bitch, moan and cry,

So up to Trump Tower the nominees they flew,
With the sleigh full of ideas‍—‌and Ivanka, too:
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The prancing and pawing of a communist hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney came Vladimir Putin, with a bound:
He was dressed all in fur, except for his chest,
He told the Trumpster, “pick Tillerson,” he’s the best,
The Donald had a bundle of people in his tower,
And he loved the attention, and enjoyed the power,
His eyes‍—‌how they twinkled! His visitors so merry,
They were happy coming in, Romney left a little wary,
Madow’s mouth was drawn up like a bow,
She cried like a baby, stuck her head in the snow,
The threat of the electors dems held tight in their teeth,
And the idea encircled their heads like a wreath.
They tried to show a bold front, and said “the ruskies hacked our mail,”
And Preibus laughed when he heard it, and said “you’ll never prevail”
Reince was named chief of staff, a jolly republican elf,
And I laugh’d when I saw him in spite of myself;
A wink of Kellyanne’s eye and a twist of her head
Soon let me know I had nothing to dread.
On a thank-you tour, Trump went straight to his work,
And tweeted a lot, sometimes like a jerk,
To appear at Trump Tower, even Kanye arose,
and stopped on his way out, striking a pose.
The Donald sprung to his plane, to Trump Air gave a whistle,
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle:
But I heard Alec exclaim, ere he disappeared from sight‍—‌



I want you…for Christmas