Alive & Well...

Elliott and Scoobs have been busy masquerading as lovers in the waiting room, booing Nazis, rescheduling appointments, and trying to find the best way to spend eleven free dollars at the hospital.

Brace yourself. Scoobs and Elliott get into the disgusting and wonderful world of infertility with fellow jerk off room alum and special guest Mike. The three compare literal spank bank material, discuss the emotional load of the IVF journey, and drop as many semen puns as they can muster.

Scoobs and Elliott welcome their first guest to the pod! Jason joins the duo to talk about his bipolar diagnosis, the wild Hollywood story that led him to it, and gifts us with a killer joke about mania and his trip to Italy.

Scoobs and Elliott accidentally manifested too hard last episode and recount their jaunt to the ER. They also talk about everyone's favorite vampire Bryan Johnson, what they hope they live long enough to see, and transhumanism -- whatever that actually is.

All you need to know is that Scoobs has a near death experience in the first two minutes.

Scoobs and Elliott come clean about their failed attempt to record an episode in the hospital, Scoobs sees the ghost of Chappell Roan, and they both look back on the happy accidents that started their careers.

Scoobs and Elliott talk about getting crossed over by an 8-year-old, the (debatable) existential FOMO of friends leaving for new beginnings, and why Elliott finally decided to read The Fault In Our Stars. 

Back from a holiday hiatus, Scoobs and Elliott discuss the shifting definition of home, having a Stockholm syndrome relationship with hospitals, and how to give an AI chatbot an existential crisis. 

Scoobs and Elliott do a little armchair philosophy as they contemplate being squished like a bug, tell the truth about SoCals' infamous grunion runs, and get our first caller into the show. Sort of.

Scoobs and Elliott wade through an endless stream of bad news as they process the idea of WWIII, the terrible possibility of glizzykemia, and wonder if it's possible to make a cancer diagnosis feel like bottle service.