Why don't you grab a seat there buddy. We need to talk about something and it's kind of important. It's about Mucky Pup. I know, I know... you know all about it from the kids at school. I get it. But we just want to make sure that your first time is safe and... what do you mean it's not your first time? Well did you use a flexi?

This week we are all taking a plane ride to see if any carnies will give us a body massage or at least let us bum an exotic cigarette before putting down our fried oreo pickle poutine long enough to book a train to Oklahoma to catch at least one of the 11 zippy tracks from the presciently non-libertarian THE 💀💀💀 LEVELING.

Steps away from the finish line on the ROAD to 200, we celebrate the internet past, the internet future, and sophisticated metacommentary on how the internet will be used in the data-beast wars. Maybe the only solution is to retreat to the deep frontier of interior Alaska where all we have to worry about is the gas wars and how to score a room in that one building where everyone lives. Luckily THE CYNICS are statewide nonstop for the last 45 years (we assume).

It's been a rough week and we are rough boys like the sexy legs in the ZZ Top "Rough Boys" video but not like the Pete Townshend Rough Boys because that is still sketchy no matter what. This week we wade through blood and bleed some more on our quest to dance all our firearms away with the pulsing singular beat of (sort of) Connecticut's XO MANOWAR I mean MAGNUS ROBOT FI- I mean XO SKELETONS.

This week one of us is humbled by the work of a powerful lesser man while the other is inspired by a powerful super man but both of us are on a convergent, patron-demanded path to learn about some 2-week iron men and the work they did as iron boys in Connecticut's own FAULTLINE.

Don't worry, everyone. We got this. We are hard at work assembling an elite, throbbing wall of well tanned leftist muscle to turn the tides of history back toward mundane center-right capitalism where we still can't afford to go the hospital. We also combat hardcore AI hoaxes and astroturfing and that's the sum total of hardcore chat this episode because today we're here for... something else. Ladies and germs, aloha from THE DAMBUILDERS.

This week we peer into our own black mirrors and find that hell peers back. French hell. What French hell is this, you ask? Why it's the all you can eat, buttery lobsteriffic hell of Maine's de facto fastcore kings OUTBREAK!

This week we shred the gnar with fish and tacos but not fish tacos. What are you some kind of maniac? Tune in for your path to survival in the lawless post-hardcore wastelands where there is no margin for error as proven by the rock 'n roll roosters of Long Island's IRONY OF LIGHTFOOT.

Lies, drugs, and fish are stacking up to a surprising degree following our week off. I won't say we do our best because raising expectations like that is a fool's game, but don't nobody tell Montana's ASS-END OFFEND because they're working harder than a... well... yeah I don't know.

As men of culture, of course we bend all the technology at our disposal to the task of international sport, but that doesn't mean we don't have plenty of time left over in our day for Walking on the Moon. Meanwhile the boys in SHOGUN have upwards of 6 guitarists vying for your attention.