I built an entire hour around the theme of "Things We Aren't Allowed to Say." I played punk rock, spoken word poetry, and even a recording of a lawnmower starting up (because why not?). I got three angry phone calls and one standing ovation from a guy fixing his truck in a garage.

Most people listen to the radio to fall asleep. They want predictability. They want Taylor Swift on the hour, a bland traffic report, and a host who sounds like he’s never had a real emotion in his life.

Tune in. Turn it up. And expect the unexpected.

I call that a win.

They might fire me tomorrow. They might pull the plug. The signal might degrade to just white noise.

You don’t need a broadcast license to be a rebel. You just need a microphone, a spark, and a refusal to be average.

I’m the Radio Rebel: Why the Airwaves Are My Middle Finger to the Mainstream

So, what did I do?