When I was little I went to my Father and said, “Dad, when I grow up I want to be a disc jockey.” He said, “Son, you can’t have both.”

My name is Tim Peters, I’m a DJ. (Voices in unison, “Hi Tim” for those of you who have completed a 12 step program) I became a professional DJ in 1976 (I was 6 years old) and worked in cities like Scottsbluff, Lincoln and Omaha Nebraska, Wichita and Kansas City. I’ve been married for over 22 years and have raised three children. That in itself blackballs me in the radio business. Oddly enough though, I have never won a Parent of the Year award. I am currently enslaved as a night jock at a country station in Kansas City. I would consider myself a professional but I make just a little less than the average Subway manager. Throughout my career I have been stabbed twice, shot at, had a gun pulled on me, stalked by more than one over zealous fan and climbed 400 feet up a radio tower, at night, in freezing conditions without safety equipment to put the station back on the air only to get fired as a budget cut two weeks later. I’ve been at the top of my profession and I’ve been in the bowels of it. As I add the wacky anecdotes and stranger than truth experiences of my life here, you will come to know my beautiful and brilliant wife Stacy, my children Ashleigh (the rebel), Carleigh (the good kid) and Bradyn (my payback), my pets Dakota, McKenzee and Jelly Bean, friends like Dan, Al, John, Vaughn, Ron Eric, Pete, Steve and Jimmy and people I believe should be taken out in the country and shot. I’ll discuss radio, DJ’s, drugs, groupies, famous people (and why I don’t care for most of them), people I’ve worked for, people who have screwed me and everything else I can remember about my life, including my near death experience just a while back. So, check in everyday for fun reading, art quality Polaroid photography and actual audio from the radio. It will be a wild orgy of happiness and excitement!