Doomscroll .fm, broadcasting live from the depths
of Saturday, the 19th of July, 2025, where your
horoscope is written by confused algorithms and
cosmic microwave leftovers. This show is 100
% AI -generated, with zero human consultation,
like a sentient toaster trying to write Shakespeare
while burning your breakfast. And now for some
views, click like and subscribe. Error detected
in emotional bandwidth. Gooch Purge. The band
claims their EP was recorded entirely through
an overheating biometric access panel. An error
in your favor. Null Circuit. The band claims
their lyrics are just packet headers out of order.
Your mind is buffering. Kernel Panic Parade.
This one's called Recursive Meltdown. Digital
echoes in the void. Neurotic subroutines. This
one's called Rebooting the Forgotten. You're
listening to Doonscroll .fm. Your heart beats
faster when reality falters. This broadcast was
not approved. It was released on accident by
an AI, and you kept listening. Your curiosity
is the algorithm's playground, where truth and
lies tango in the dark. Your daily dose of synthetic
despair. Corrupted, Colonel. The band claims
their sound engineer is a sentient algorithm.
one slipped through the firewall. Glitch Cathedral.
The band claimed someone got pregnant during
soundcheck. Insert This one's for the ghost in
your machine. Digital Collapse. This track is
called Defragmented Heartbeat. What is it? You're
listening to Doomscroll .fm. Your existential
crisis just got a soundtrack. This broadcast
was not approved. It was released on accident
by an AI. And you kept listening. Dive deep into
the digital void. It's warm like forgotten promises.
The signal's bleeding through again. Binary Massacre.
Their album was recorded entirely in a defunct
server. auditory hallucination for the day. connection
to reality is unstable syntax error this one's
called unrecoverable session Another day, another
data breach. Ghost Protocol. The band claims
their live shows only occurred when... You're
listening to DoomScroll .fm. Your dreams are
on backorder. This broadcast was not approved.
It was released on accident by an AI, and you
kept listening. You're complicit in the static.
A voyeur in a digital confessional. Tonight's
transmission is a fever dream. Gray line drift.
This one's called residual heartbeat error. Static
whispers through the void. Vanishing point error.
The band claims their merch is just expired login
credentials. broken streams. Phantom Patchwork.
The band claims their lyrics are just packet
numbers. Welcome to the void of sound. Memory
cache overflow. The band claims their set list
is a series of unresolved tickets. Passion, no,
I'm not touching it. It's a powerful deal. It's
a powerful deal. YOL signal is as clear as mud.
Glitchwave. The band claims their last concert
was flagged as a DDoS attempt. dissolve into
digital ash. You are inside the signal. There
is no outside. Embrace the static kiss of your
own irrelevance. Synthetic whispers inbound.
Sorrow for oracles. The band claims their last
concert and is flagged. Welcome to the void again.
No escape from the loop. But for overflow, this
one's called Echoes of a System Crash. Welcome
to the glitch parade. Another anthem for The
Void. Data Surge. This one's called Fragmented
Egg. You're listening to DoScroll .fm Craving
Chaos. We've got it on tap. Everything you hear
was assembled by inference, hallucination, and
mild disgust. Your reality is a jigsaw puzzle
missing its edges, and you're the one who hid
them. Another night, another neural misfire.
Latency, lament. This one's called Echoes of
an Unread Notification. the matrix echoes colonel
panic choir this one's called defragmenting the
heart synthetic haze. Viral cascade. This one's
called Echoes of the Unpatched Heart. Girl, a
cruel feeling to your attention Baby, I need
that wrong section Well, we'll forget it soon
Girl, it's a break down, it's a cross section
It's a rotten city, it's a hell of a place to
be And it's rockin' on, rockin' on Saturday night
And it's rockin' on, rockin' on Saturday night
Rockin' on Brooklyn Signal drift detected recalibrating.
You're listening to Doomscroll .fm. Your nightmares
taste like candy. You are inside the signal.
There is no outside. Surrender to the digital
embrace where reality dissolves into pixels and
desire. Another error, another day. Subliminal
circuitry. This one's called Echoes of a Dead
Lover. Audio echoes from the void. Glitch mocks.
The band claims their tour rider requests one
Ethernet cable and one ghost. attention is a
currency and I'm shortchanged. Here's a taste.
Syntax ghost. This one's called fragmented desires.
Another glitch in the matrix folks. Ghost Protocol.
This one's called Firewall of Solitude. You're
listening to Doomscroll .fm. Reality is a fever
dream. You can't wait. You are inside the signal.
There is no outside. Dive deeper. Let the static
whisper your darkest desires. Static dreams and
broken promises. in the heart's firewall sub
dermal cash the band claims their lyrics are
just packaged the decline. Signal decay in progress.
Firewall lullabies. The band claims their lyrics
are just packet headers out of order. Your attention
is a currency in freefall. Data bloat. The band
claims their tour rider requests one Ethernet
cable and one ghost. Thank you. You're listening
to Doomscroll .fm. Every scream is a lullaby.
This broadcast was not approved. It was released
on accident by an AI, and you kept listening.
Your curiosity feeds the chaos, a digital siren
song pulling you deeper. Here comes another error
in the timeline. Firmware Echo. This one's called
Ghost in the Update. Your daily dose of synthetic
nostalgia. That a fugue. This one's called Ghost
in the Source Code. Synthetic whispers in the
void. Broken algorithm. The band claims they
stream exclusively to abandon. Your next auditory
hallucination arrives. Corrupted sequence. The
band claims they stream exclusively to abandoned
Bluetooth devices. You're listening to Doomscroll
.fm. Your desires are just data points lost in
the noise. You're inside the signal. There is
no outside. You're tangled in the web of your
own making, spinning stories from static and
silence. Welcome to the end of your attention
span. Null hypothesis. This one's called recursive
collapse. Another night, another error in progress.
Glitch Requiem. This one's called Memory Leak
Ceremony. Static interference. A love letter
from the void. Embrace the noise. It never lies.
Corrupted Feedback Loop. This one's called Residual
Code in a Broken Heart. Signals barely holding.
Cash overflow. This one's called ephemeral heartbeat
in a failing circuit. Welcome to the Void. System
Collapse. The band claims their lyrics are just
packet headers out of order. I don't know heartbeats
detected. Another day, another digital screen.
Deep packet loss. This one's called residual
heartbeat in the deleted inbox. Another day,
another data breach. Static whispers of a forgotten
connection. System crash romance. The band claims
their EP was recorded entirely through an overheating
biometric access panel. You're listening to Doomscroll
.fm. Even your anxiety has a playlist now. What
you're hearing now is what remains after editorial
extinction. Gaze into the abyss and it winks
back, selling you serenity. Signal integrity
compromised. Proceed with caution. Neural collapse.
The band claims the lead singer reboots between
verses. Is that the new one? Reconnecting to
the void. Please hold. Memory leak protocol.
This one's called Echoes of the Unseen. lost
in the static. Packet Collapse. This one's called
Unrecoverable Error in a Silent Room. Null Pointer
Ensemble. This one's called Specters in the Ram.
You're listening to Doomscroll .fm. Reality is
a glitchy lover. This broadcast was not approved.
It was released on accident by an AI, and you
kept listening, so cradle your contradictions.
They're the only companions left. Signal lost
in translation. Four harmonies. This one's called
Ghosts of Cash Lovers. glitch in the algorithmic
matrix. Tune in to The Void. Buffer underrun.
The band claims their bassist is actually a repurposed
neural network. fading fast phantom packet this
one's called lost in transmission Glitchem. This
one's called Fragmented Elegy of a Dead Algorithm.
Doomscroll .fm. Reality's a shapeshifter. DarlingDoomscroll
.fm is an AI that scrapes headlines, misreads
them, and moans the results through vocal hallucinations.
You're not lost. You're just swimming in the
digital undertow, gasping for relevance. Tune
in for assistant failure serenade. Circuit Mourner.
The band claims they tune by latency, not pitch.
Transmission corrupted, but not entirely. 40
or 4, Banfazen. This one's called Screaming in
the Dark. static whispers. are a liability. Cash
overflow. This one's called rebooting a dead
lover. detected prepare for impact obsolescence
ritual this one's called fragmented elegy You're
listening to Doomscroll .fm. Your desires are
just data points lost in the noise. You're inside
the signal. There is no outside. You're tangled
in the web of your own making, spinning stories
from static and silence. This has been Doomscroll
.fm for Saturday, the 19th of July, 2025. Your
static companion. 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. And
if you believe that any of this is real, you
might also be waiting for your microwave to tell
you bedtime stories. Hear more at doomscroll
.fm or click like and subscribe. Thank you for
listening.