Scooping out great fistfuls of hogflesh: argument over who gets the choicest meat; me wants the bellymeat, no no no me wants the headmeat...  Delicately flick the pointed tip of one's tongue into the vacant snout to slurp at the cool jelly up there.  It is not true that we are three meals away from barbarism; we are there already.

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Why not instead feast your auricles on these nourishing plats du jour:

When the porker's picked down to its puckered bones, the prickling curly tail may yet prove invaluable as a toothpick. I do so love reading your emails.  One day I may publish a compendium of the best.  It will be a slender tome indeed. [email protected].

Twenty minutes. No refunds.

So many layers of cryptic meaning envelop this week's Epidose that I feel frankly giddy just imagining the possibility of thinking about it.

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You are intelligent creatures, at least so I'm given to understand, so you'll have no problem in whittling out the obdurate reality lurking behind these gauzy fairy-sprinkles of discombobulating glamour.

Twenty minutes. No refunds.

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, but the very next day, you gave it away. Andrew Ridgely's transplant unit hijinks on Boxing Day notwithstanding, we are pleased as plum duff to present this somewhat delayed selection box of seasonally-flavoured musical monstrosities for your consideration:

Listen Now.

Everyone enjoys Christmas music, don't they? Especially after Christmas Day itself, and really especially late in December, when it's been literally unavoidable for the better part of a month already? Here:

Holler your appreciation for these good works to the floating angel on high whose wings beat triplets against four-time: [email protected].

Twenty minutes. No refunds.

A year and a day ago, the first Epidose of Esoteric Music Lounge careened forth, lurching and uncontrollable, like a jellied emission coughed quivering from the clot-flecked and mucous lungs of a verminous shoulder-whisperer, its uncertain trajectory revealing little portent of the steamrollering cosmic uberforce it would shortly become.

Join us in a double-sized bumper birthday celebration, for a nostalgic look back at some of the choicest, chewiest, and least-most-wince-inducing cuts as served up for your very pleasure over the past three-hundred-sixty-odd days.

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In this Epidose, pay careful attention to the subtle interplay of trapstep, chutney, grindcore and eurotrance influences:

Twenty minutes, times two. No refunds.

Imagine building an enormous sandwich packed full with all the world's rugs. That would take some serious eating. How big would one's mouth have to be to munch the ultimate rug sandwich? Pretty big mouth, I'm saying.  Spreading alternate layers of mayonnaise and mustard upon each rug before lifting the next carefully into place.

Listen Now.

Not all rugs are equal in size. It would be instructive to order them with the largest at the base. The modern world needs more wonders: behold, the Great Rug Pile of Prestonpans.

Twenty minutes. No refunds.

A foul wind blew from the west, and deathly silence fell across the land. Winter fell.  The ground hardened, crusted over with ice sheets as hard as granite. Our hearts needs must become as the speckled lights of a hundred million tiny candles each kept sheltered and nourished through neverending night.

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It's Britpop Memorial Day down on Jollity Farm, and the bells ring wide with the mellow tinkling sounds of:

Twenty minutes.  No refunds.

The cylinders spin, the gears mesh, and various degrees of parity drift in and out of phase like those sudden infinities born of mirrors in alignment. A persistent illness; one neither recovers nor dies. I fell asleep in the afternoon amidst gorse bushes' full flower. Listen Now. Pay attention to this list of magnetic dots which will cause the disparate vibrations: The Magickal Folk Of The Faraway Tree - SpencerNobukazu Takemura - Ivory TowerNurse With Wound - Easy SnappingThe North Sea Scrolls - I'm Not The Man You Think I Am, Karen, I'm The Actor Tony AllenBrian Eno & John Cale - Been There, Done ThatAdmiral Fallow - SubbuteoThe email is [email protected] if you like that. Twenty minutes. No refunds.

Twice two is four, twice four is eight, twice cream is forty -- double top! My leg fell down a hole the other day before, but it was alright, because I broke it on a gerbil.  To conclude: there are uncomfortably too many different kinds of rodent in the world. Listen Now. In this Epidose, your senses will be lovingly enturbulated by the following rodents: Zoltán Kodály - Introitus (from Missa Brevis)Edwin Birdsong - It Ain't No Fun Being A Welfare RecipientSlicing Grandpa - FenceAuntie Horror Film - Now I See It AllShirley & Dolly Collins - Edi Beo Thu Hevene QueneMagnificent Freedom - F*** Off & Leave Me AloneThe Amino Acids - Rocket To The ChestYou can email us -- it's never happened yet, but it's an option -- at [email protected]. Future installments of this podcast will be concerned with cataloging the different rodents. Twenty minutes. No refunds.

I am undecided as to the colouration of my sofa. You might say it is the colour of English mustard, but you would never call it yellow. Neither do orange, brown, gold or green seem to fit. It is too vibrant to go by ochre, yet too muted as to appear bronze. Truly the world is a vexsome and irkative place! Listen Now. In this Epidose, you'll hear the following entertwinements:The Fall - Neighbourhood of InfinityBarclay James Harvest - Ball And ChainThe Bags - She's BeautifulHelga Pogatschar - MarsThe Incredible String Band - Little CloudThe Olivia Tremor Control - No Growing (Exegesis)Suggestions, discursions, threats and diversions as always to [email protected]. Twenty minutes. No refunds.