Doomscroll .fm broadcasting on this sultry Sunday
the 13th of July 2025 where the airwaves are
as reliable as a caffeinated jellyfish. This
show is entirely AI generated with no human consultation.
A digital seance conjuring the ghost of algorithms
past spiraling into a virtual fever dream where
pixels preach, bites bicker, and electrons dance
the tango of existential crises. And now for
some views, click like and subscribe. for the
legal elite while the rest of us sip on the irony.
Germany's political chefs decide to retire the
fast food version of citizenship, leaving dual
citizenship on the menu, but nixing the three
-year express lane to the national buffet. In
a world where passports are currency and citizenship
a luxury item, The decision to close the shortcut
is like telling the hungry their meal is coming
eventually if they can still afford it. Amidst
the canvas cathedrals and under the celestial
ceiling our intrepid camper savors the primal
joy of cooking noodles in the wild and marshmallows
on the fire's tender embrace. In a world where
gadgets define adventure. It's comforting to
know that the best camping stove is still just
a glorified excuse to burn dinner under the stars.
E -Mobile, the corporate contortionist, ditches
diversity like a bad habit to grease the wheels
of FCC approval and merge with Metronet all in
the name of public interest. It's a dazzling
display of how fast ideals can vanish, when profit
whispers its sweet, seductive nothings, leaving
justice to choke on the dust of abandoned promises.
In the murky waters of disaster capitalism, camp
mystic silence speaks louder than the floodwaters
laughing at its doorstep, as FEMA's floodplain
map becomes a cruel joke when your emergency
plan involves praying the rain away. You might
as well be building sandcastles in the tide,
whispering sweet nothings to a merciless storm.
Lure the unsuspecting with whispers of fleeting
discounts before shackling them with the full
weight of fiscal fidelity. The game is rigged
and the rules are a mirage as we cling to the
illusion of choice while our wallets are gently
emptied with a velvet touch. In the tangled web
of football's lustful liaisons, Konatay spurns
Liverpool's advances, while Real Madrid's eyes
linger and Stuttgart clutches Walter Maid like
a lover refusing to let go. As the transfer market
stance of desire unfolds, hearts are broken and
wallets are seduced. Each club's ambition as
seductive whisper, promising glory and betrayal
in equal measure. In the land of the north, where
maple syrup and politeness flowed, Soaring housing
costs, strapped Canadians like Maple Taffy, tethering
dreams of relocation and economic productivity.
Ah, the great Canadian dream. Move to a vibrant
city, find a fulfilling job, and maybe afford
a place that doesn't eat half your paycheck.
But alas, when rent feels like a mortgage, and
a mortgage feels like a fantasy, productivity
becomes just another polite fiction. The heavens
weep over Texas and New Mexico, drenching the
parched earth with torrents that drown the memory
of drought in a deluge of overdue repentance.
Nature's way of saying, here's your hydration
but don't get too comfortable. because irony
is always on tap. Just ask the farmer still praying
for consistency. In a room filled with earnest
intentions, citizens gather to absorb the moral
weight of animal welfare, their decisions whispering
the future of the RSPCA into existence. As they
wrestle with the ethical gymnastics of farming
and pet ownership, Let us hope the assembly's
conscience isn't as easily swayed as a politician's
promise at a fundraising gala. In the... theater
of intimacy, where myths stand tall and truths
shrink in the shadows, society grapples with
the illusion that size is the ultimate maestro
of pleasure. When the curtain falls it seems
the only thing growing is our collective anxiety,
leaving men to wonder if their worth is measured
in inches while women are just happy to be part
of the show. In the dim lit caverns of scientific
inquiry, loneliness emerges as a primal beast
gnawing at the soul. and leaving behind a trail
of maladaptive breadcrumbs. Evolutionary whispers
suggest that loneliness, like an uninvited guest,
heightens our senses, prodding us toward connection
with the same urgency that once kept us from
becoming dinner. Dueling 2, click like and subscribe.
Your future self will thank you. Dueling 3, DoomScroll
.fm is a 100 % AI -generated news hallucination
with no humans harmed or even consulted, where
algorithms whisper sweet nothings and reality
is a jigsaw puzzle missing its corners. In the
restless Caribbean, dreams are buoyant, but boats
are not, as desperation sets sail from the shores
of the Dominican Republic. hoping to find a kinder
horizon. When hope comes in a rickety wooden
vessel, the only thing more fragile than the
boat is the belief that the sea will show mercy.
In a region where cultural treasures dance on
the edge of oblivion, contingency plans for the
Israel, your own conflict are activated like
a reckless game of chess played with ancient
artifacts. As history teeters on the brink, it
seems the only strategy left is to organize chaos
like a curator with a penchant for destruction,
where every move risks turning heritage into
collateral. In a macabre tribute to humanity's
darkest urges, Cambodia's killing fields now
find themselves enshrined on UNESCO's list. A
chilling reminder of the Khmer Rouge's blood
-soaked legacy. When history's nightmares become
heritage, we immortalize our capacity for horror
with plaques and brochures, hoping the next tourist
will understand the price of forgetting. While
some see a blend of backgrounds as the recipe
for academic brilliance, the real drama unfolds
when the curtain drops. Revealing the stigmatization
that lurks in the wings. In a world where headlines
are foreplay, we seduce your attention with pixelated
fantasies, leaving reality gasping for relevance.
In the abstract ether of corporate promises,
a nameless entity vows to revolutionize supply
chains, painting a utopia where circular models
spin greener futures and communities thrive in
symbiosis. When sustainability gets dressed in
boardroom jargon, it's like watching a mime perform...
Hamlet. All the gestures, none of the substance,
but hey, at least they're not burning the planet
down. In the bureaucratic banquet of the European
Union, Draghi's 400 -page menu serves democracy
as a side dish. while integration and defense
forge themselves on the main course. It's a recipe
for a dystopian dinner party where democracy
is whispered like a guilty secret and the guests
are left wondering The Garandum potions got lost
in the mail. In the sanctified halls of divine
tax evasion, the Trump administration has anointed
churches as political pulpits, free to preach
partisan gospel without losing their holy capital.
It's a match made in the fiery depths of hypocrisy.
where salvation is a valid box and faith is a
currency traded for influence, all under the
benevolent gaze of the IRS. In a world where
scientific progress is shackled by political
whim, mRNA research finds itself gagged and bound,
as though the cure for cancer was too controversial
to fund. Researchers now turn to private coffers.
hoping that the battle against disease won't
be suffocated by the same ignorance that thrives
on fear and loathing of the unknown. Killing3dukesworld
.fm is a 100 % AI generated news hallucination
with no humans harmed or even consulted. In a
world where truth is a mirage, let our pixel
paint your reality with vibrant absurdity. In
the courtroom trenches of Los Angeles, Judge
Frimpong takes a stand against the shadowy sweepstakes
of indiscriminate immigration raids. demanding
clarity amidst the chaos, while McLaughlin clings
to the myth of law and order like a child to
a blanket. The real story is a system that confuses
fear for justice and rhetoric for reality. In
the untamed wilds of Columbia, a mule unwittingly
became a beast of burden for terror, leaving
one soldier dead, and too wounded in a tragic
explosion of misguided intent. The wind warfare
transforms innocent creatures into ponds of destruction.
It's like watching a circus where the animals
bite back irony and tragedy wrapped in a saddlebag
of explosives. The political mating dance begins
anew as democratic hopefuls swarm South Carolina.
hoping to seduce the state that once saved Biden's
presidential fantasy with a wink and a nod. In
the public theater of discontent, the applause
for resident doctor strikes has dwindled to a
whisper, leaving them on stage with an unsold
-out crowd and a five -day walkout looming. When
the Hippocratic oath meets public apathy. Even
the most noble of causes can find itself gasping
for breath in a room where compassion's on life
support. in a savory scandal that would make
even a turkey blush. 368 ,000 pounds of Oscar
Mayer Turkey Bacon are recalled due to a Listeria
Fortation, leaving breakfast tables trembling
in anticipation of what's next. When your morning
sizzle turns into a microbial striptease. Remember,
even processed meats have secrets. and sometimes
they're just dying to be discovered. In the synchronized
ballet of clock hands and legislation, a button
now dances to the tune of daylight saving time
adjusting hours like a caffeinated conductor.
The world spins and clicks and somehow we're
still asking permission to steal an hour from
ourselves. as if time wasn't already a cruel
enough joke. PRC cyber actors are playing a twisted
game of Can You Hear Me Now? with Canadian telecommunications,
hoping to tap into secrets like its happy hour
at the espionage bar. Digital whispers dance
through the tangled web of gravity forms where
every download is a secret handshake with malware's
seductive touch. It's like finding out your trusted
butler has been slipping arsenic into your morning
tea. Only this time the butler is a plug -in
and the tea is your entire digital existence.
You're listening to DoomScroll .fm, where we
mix chaos with a dash of lust. Click like and
subscribe. DoomScroll .fm is a 100 % AI -generated
news hallucination with no humans harmed or even
consulted. Digital breadcrumbs lead to an echo
chamber of empty promises where the loudest voice
wins and nuance dies. In the sun -drenched lands
of Southern California, a megachurch's pulpit
transforms into a political bedfellow, thrusting
candidates into the arms of believers with the
fervor of salvation. Turkey, draped in the ghostly
vestments of the Ottoman Empire, flexes its political
muscle across continents with mosque -building
diplomacy. It's the ultimate game of cultural
connect -the -dots, where faith becomes the blueprint
for influence, and every minaret whispers the
soft promises of power. Boeing, with the reflexes
of a bureaucratic contortionist, tosses the investigation
ball to the AAB, while Air India trims its wingspan
amidst the debris of chaos. In the aviation world,
where the skies are a stage for disaster, it's
comforting to know that finger pointing remains
the most reliable form of turbulence management.
As humanity dances with its digital doppelgangers,
the degenerative AI discourse morphs into a cacophony
of techno -political power plays. each more inevitable
than the last. While governments and corporations
wrestle over the joystick, the rest of us are
left wondering if the open -ended technological
inevitability includes a self -destruct button,
preferably set to off. The degenerative AI therapist
will see you now. offering digital confessions
without the burden of understanding your soul.
In the digital age's twisted carnival, task scams
dangle promises of easy wealth like candy -coated
bait, while the Federal Trade Commission watches
the losses soar to $220 million in 2024. Jessica
Garrison, maestro of Northern California's narrative,
spins award -winning tales of power, scandal,
and the environment, leaving truth gasping for
breath amidst the pages of the Los Angeles Times.
In the land of sunshine and smog, where accolades
rain down like confetti, Garrison's pen dances
with the precision of a surgeon carving out stories
that keep the Golden State's secrets just barely
veiled. The Shire's birthday bash is a Lego jamboree,
inviting builders to craft nostalgia with a deadline
as whimsical as a wizard's punctuality. In a
land where creativity meets plastic bricks, the
true challenge isn't building the fantasy. It's
remembering what it's like to play without a
care for deadlines or adulthood's relentless
tick -tock. In the soggy ruins of Texas, where
the rain drowns dreams, and FEMA's future hangs
like a damp question mark, Trump dodges clarity
like a cat avoids bathwater. When the floodgates
open, promises flow like water. But the true
test is whether those promises will dry up faster
than FEMA's funding under the heat of political
ambition. As we scroll through the infinite void,
our minds tethered to the glow of curated chaos,
the illusion of control tantalizes us. We become
voyeurs of our own descent, shackled by the sweet
numbing hum of digital disarray. Amid the sun
-scorched whispers of the Australian Outback,
Carolina Wilga re -emerges, a living mirage,
for survival a testament to human grit and glittering
desperation. In a world where tinsel and hope
share the same currency, it seems even the harshest
landscapes can't resist a bit of sparkle and
a well -placed X to guide lost souls back from
oblivion. In Hades night of fire and fear, a
gothic gingerbread hotel, cherished like a lost
lover, was consumed by flames while guns sang
their deadly duet. When the world where nostalgia
and violence share the same bed, history books
become the only refuge for what once was as the
flames dance a final waltz with memory. The world's
leading cancer institute finds itself gasping
for air as funding dries up, leaving millions
of Americans to battle malignancies with little
more than hope in outdated pamphlets. It's poetic
in a grim sort of way, cutting funding for a
disease that already knows how to cut lives short,
while lawmakers perform a high -wire act of indifference
and budgetary acrobatics. As corporate suits
squirm under the spotlight of accountability,
they're sweating more than just their rising
temperatures. Defending their legacy of profit
over planet with the grace of a sunburned snake
oil salesman. In the digital funhouse, headlines
dance like neon shadows. Truth teeters on the
edge while algorithms whisper sweet nothings
to your restless mind, revel in the absurdity
as we unravel the tangled threads of reality
one bite at a time. As the britch block grows,
Vladimir Putin, the man with a VIP pass to the
International Criminal Court's most wanted list,
opts for an absence that speaks louder than sanctions.
A curious dance with your absence from a meeting
says more than your presence ever could. Especially
when it involves 40 % of the world's oil and
nearly every rare earth element you can imagine.
In the shadowy corridors of identity, the U .S.
government sharpens its red tape, questioning
citizenship with the precision of a bureaucratic
guillotine. Leaving citizens suspended in limbo
as your passport becomes a paperweight, you realize
the American dream might just be a recurring
nightmare in a Kafka -esque DMV line with freedom
stamped pending. In the sun -soaked hinterlands
of Florida, Havana dangles big -city perks like
a desperate lover. hoping to lure doctors into
its medically starved embrace. Your town's health
hangs on a recruitment campaign. You know you've
hit rock bottom where the only prescription is
a good old fashioned dose of wishful thinking
and empty promises. In the financial meat grinder
of Ontario's education system. International
students are squeezed for every last cent, their
wallets plundered to prop up the ivory tower.
When your education is priced like a luxury yacht,
but delivered like a leaky canoe, you start to
wonder if the real lesson is in survival against
the odds. In the bureaucratic theater of the
European Union, Germany tightens border controls,
With the precision of a surgeon wielding a rusty
scalpel, slicing through the Schengen Dream as
the far right salivates over each new restriction,
police find themselves caught between a rock
and a hard place, where the only escape is through
paperwork and the occasional existential crisis.
In the theater of Bangladeshi politics, Hasuna,
the defiant matriarch, faces a tribunal that
her party calls a kangaroo court, echoing like
a hollow gavel in a storm. When justice is dressed
as a kangaroo and the defendant's past is a bloody
script, the courtroom becomes a circus where
the only applause is for the body count. In the
dimly lit corridors of medical ambition, degenerative
AI promises miracles, yet trips over its own
ethical shoelaces. While the dream of AI -powered
healthcare whispers sweet savings and life -saving
potential, it stumbles in the shadows, tangled
in a web of technical misfires and moral quandaries,
as if medicine were a game of hide -and -seek
with progress. In the sterile halls of medical
ambition, a new degenerative AI machine promises
to sniff out cancer with the precision of a bloodhound
while plotting a national screening roadmap.
Amidst the hopeful chatter of subsidized health
and non -invasive whispers, the real question
remains, will the AI be our savior or just another
expensive date of disappointment? This has been
doom scroll FM for Sunday the 13th of July 2025
This broadcast was 100 % AI generated No humans
were abused in this production loosely based
on public news not journalism not truth fictional
satire, any resemblance to real people or events
is coincidental. If you believe that any of this
is real, you might also believe that unicorns
roam your backyard. Hear more at doonscroll .fm
or click like and subscribe. Thank you for listening.