I've never done anything wrong and don't look into it. My record is so squeaky clean you could eat a big bowl of Indian food on it. There are so few skeletons in my closet that it's like... it's like something you could say that would be funny to insert into that setup. Maybe something about Halloween? But there aren't skeletons, so that doesn't really make sense because as we know Halloween is notoriously brimming with skeletons. Hey, if you've ever said "hallows eve" in a joking manner you should probably take your own life. That's really not cute or funny and people become very uncomfortable in the air that sits between your next words. Everyone looks down on people who use cutsey language to describe things we already have popular words for. Now, I will acknowledge that there are almost 180 episodes of myself recorded on here, so if you catch one where I did slip up and say "hallows eve", please send me a private DM and I'll arrange for my life to end. Thank you for your patience.

All the sexy ladies... look, that's all we got in America these days. I bought a roll of paper towels recently that cost me $8. It's over, man. But hey, at least we still got a couple of sexy ladies to drive Indian men absolutely insane on the timeline. We've got a world where it's perfectly normal and actually rewarded to show your pussy online for $5. For less than the price of paper towels you can plug in your credit card and look at some really underwhelming pornography made by some woman living in Idaho. Until, of course, those women lose that job because AI is drinking a thousand gallons of water per day to generate fake girlfriends for men who haven't seen sunlight or felt the gentle wind on their cheeks in ten years. The future is beautiful

I got my fiber on lock brah. I got my prune juice IV drip going in my ass brah. Nothing solid hommie, nothing too thick to pass through my anal cavity any time of day brah. Everything in the vitamix brah. I always be pooping. I do stretches to make my boodihole bungalicious to get the bitches hollerin like a banshee... brah. Never let people pooping less than you tell you what you can and cannot do. Once you ascend to greater poops you'll never be the same. Much love, all poop, brah.

Everything is actually fine. Nothing to worry about here, folks, because we've got it all under control. Sure, does it feel like a big glowing orb is enveloping everything into galactic goo, and the few remaining positions of power are seemingly entirely filled by fat pedophiles incapable of servicing anything other than our overlords of capital, and has your dick stopped getting hard in the morning, replaced instead with joint pain and a waking dread for what the fuck could possibly happen today, how, how did they find a way to make it even worse? Sure, sure, hey... no one's saying all of that isn't true, and certainly no one is suggesting we do anything about it. But, but the sun is shining on this February day, and I'll probably go sit outside and drink a beer and complain to my girlfriend until she's begging me, literally begging me, to shut the fuck up.

After two decades of things appearing to, as you might say, "unravel" into hellscapes previously hidden and ignored, I think it's finally time to bring back pretending to be a moderate, dead center, brainless, spineless piece of shit loser. I don't read. I don'ts knows hows to, and why should I be forced to read things and think about them in order to properly politicize myself in the era of the Doom Scroll? Isn't it easier to just shrug your shoulders and flip your vote every four years because your flimsy material conditions have convinced you a better world is impossible, and therefore you should take scraps from people lying to you? Because, actually, you're super reasonable and have a pretty nuanced take about everything when you say that democrats are "too woke" and kamala was too... fucking.... leftist? Goddamn, you suck, man. It's really embarrassing to be you.

People continue to spew idiotic claims in support of their misguided beliefs. Just a giant country of lost children, wandering the mall, getting stuck in a photobooth, covered in shit and McDonalds smears. Your mom's not even looking for you. She noticed you were missing ten minutes ago and a little part of her hopes that some cartoonishly pedophilic man swooped you up and saved her the embarrassment of watching you grow up into a fatter and stinkier man than your father. But hey, maybe you'll get to meet the president! That'd be pretty cool, wouldn't it?

So if you get all upset and bored that we spent thirty minutes talking about humidifiers, you can thank the shitty news for that. Sometimes the only thing to comment on events of the last week is "that's bad." "I don't like this, please stop." And of course it won't stop, but it wouldn't stop even if you said something extremely profound and timely to match the offensive slam of horseshit filling your homescreen every second of every day. So go talk about humidifiers with your loved ones for a couple hours, drink a martini, and watch that new movie on Netflix about people having sex on vacation, or whatever the current slop is trending in the top 10 right now

We recorded this prior to the United States declaring war on a sovereign nation. And I know you might be thinking, oh well doesn't that mean you recorded this episode before Saturday of last week? and you're just now releasing the episode on Tuesday, a full day late? Hey buddy, get off my ass, alright? If you're one of the seven psychopaths that listens to this show I have bad news for you, because the point of the show isn't to gain or entertain an audience. The point of this show is to record myself talking so I can listen back to it later and Jerk Off.

Have a good week!

The year was bullshit and I don't care about how your specific year went. My own year wasn't even that bad, all things considered, and yet I can confidently assert that 2025 was dogshit. If you had a kid this year, if you blessed the world with a new vessel for our great collective consciousness, then I got some bad news for that little stinker: every year from now on will be 2025. Doesn't sound so forgivable now, does it? Sure, in a couple days we'll all be saying "2026", but deep down we'll know that it's really 2025 still. We're stuck here, destined to live out the same year over and over again. Remembering history as a series of false years that were building to the final 2025.

Imagine being one of the best living comedians of your generation that even young women in 2017 knew who you were and laughed at your comedy. And then you get a little too big for your britches and start blocking doors with your small penis at the exact time when people were using twitter as a tell-all confessional for traumatizing experiences. Bye-bye bitch. No more money for you, you fat red-headed mexican. Except wait, you're actually so goddamn good at standup that it only takes maybe two years before you're selling out Madison Square Garden again. Wow what a comeback. Maybe comedy still has a chance at not sucking absolute fucking ass... oh what's that? He accepted blood money to perform for slave owning princes in the shittiest example of a vaguely post-Wahhabist monarchist society with one of the most dogshit track records in modern history? Oh... well, was Bill Burr there?