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Right, gather round babes because I need to talk to you about the most chaotic, unhinged, ICONIC podcast on the internet and I will not be taking questions.
We've got Gay Linda — yes, GAY LINDA, because somebody named her wrong and she has FORGIVEN but she has NOT forgotten — and her co-host Devina. Or Devine. Whatever darling, they're still working it out mid-episode.
These two sit down every week and cover the things that MATTER. Would you eat a perfectly formed takeaway dinner you found on the STREET? Is there active chlamydia on the tube escalator handles? What DO you do when you release the cannon from hell of a fart in a completely silent yoga class? These are the questions, babes. THESE ARE THE QUESTIONS.
There's Sainsbury's fights. There's pizza thrown into a bush at midnight in Epping. There's birthday cakes being SPAT on and people still eating them. There's men coming out of gyms so beautiful that someone is genuinely considering joining a CHURCH.
It goes everywhere, it resolves nothing, and somehow by the end you're booking a spontaneous train to Bournemouth at 11pm.
Absolutely no notes. Total disaster. Cannot stop listening.
This is What Would Denise Do — and the answer is always, always more chaotic than you expected.
By David Allison and Dom VinceRight, gather round babes because I need to talk to you about the most chaotic, unhinged, ICONIC podcast on the internet and I will not be taking questions.
We've got Gay Linda — yes, GAY LINDA, because somebody named her wrong and she has FORGIVEN but she has NOT forgotten — and her co-host Devina. Or Devine. Whatever darling, they're still working it out mid-episode.
These two sit down every week and cover the things that MATTER. Would you eat a perfectly formed takeaway dinner you found on the STREET? Is there active chlamydia on the tube escalator handles? What DO you do when you release the cannon from hell of a fart in a completely silent yoga class? These are the questions, babes. THESE ARE THE QUESTIONS.
There's Sainsbury's fights. There's pizza thrown into a bush at midnight in Epping. There's birthday cakes being SPAT on and people still eating them. There's men coming out of gyms so beautiful that someone is genuinely considering joining a CHURCH.
It goes everywhere, it resolves nothing, and somehow by the end you're booking a spontaneous train to Bournemouth at 11pm.
Absolutely no notes. Total disaster. Cannot stop listening.
This is What Would Denise Do — and the answer is always, always more chaotic than you expected.