Haysnacks

A new report that ranks OnlyFans spending per capita says North Dakota is actually number one — yep, the land of wide spaces is tipping the most online. Mississippi spends the least and Arkansas is second-to-last, which means we get to smugly point at 50th and 49th and say, “bless their hearts.” I gotta admit, North Dakota kinda makes sense — cold, dark by 4:30, only so many times you can reorganize the garage before you go surfing the internet. We, on the other hand, are just cheap and practical: we’re coupon-hunting, trying to bundle it with our internet and wondering if Bass Pro points will pay for exclusive content. Bottom line: when Arkansans get bored we go to Walmart; in North Dakota they hit the OnlyFans button — basically same entertainment value, but Walmart feeds you.

Takeaways:

• I laugh that a per-capita OnlyFans report puts North Dakota at number one nationally; cold, dark winters apparently boost browsing habits.
• We poke fun that Arkansas and Mississippi spend the least, because we're famously thrifty and share streaming passwords with fifty relatives.
• I joke that Arkansans would bargain, coupon-hunt, and even ask if OnlyFans accepts Bass Pro points before subscribing to anything.
• I point out the per-capita stat came from someone doing spreadsheet math — some poor researcher named Bill — and that's comedy itself.
• We compare North Dakota's late-night online scene to Arkansas trips to Walmart: both cure boredom, but Walmart also hooks you up with groceries and random entertainment.

The autumnal equinox means it's time for fall clean-up and maintenance — basically your house is low-key passive-aggressively mad at you. I'm Haystack, and we rip through a Morning 6-Pack of the top stuff you "should" do to prep for fall, served with sarcasm and zero shame. We roast a few classic moves: buying a pumpkin that starts rotting on your porch, hoarding way more Halloween candy than last year’s trick-or-treaters, and sticking a scarecrow in the yard you’ll jump at for three nights straight. The countdown is fast, dumb, and weirdly relatable — full of small chores and bigger excuses. I’m not spilling the number-one pick here (mystery preserves the drama), but we end on that all-too-familiar homeowner truth: you’ll say you’ll fix it this weekend.

Takeaways:

• I remind you fall means gutters, furnace checks, fresh filters, smoke-detector tests, and other boring but necessary home chores.
• We joke that our houses get passive-aggressive when fall hits, like a silent roommate judging your summer laziness.
• I confess to overbuying Halloween candy for 200 trick-or-treaters even though we only had eleven last year—classic me move.
• We spend cash on fancy chili ingredients and somehow end up with exact canned-chili vibes anyway, no culinary glory.
• I warn you—put a scarecrow in the yard and you'll forget it, then get hilariously startled three nights in a row.

Judge Judy is stepping away from the TV cameras — her streaming show Judy Justice is set to end in October, and yeah, America’s favorite scolder is retiring. I mean, she’s 83, ran courtroom TV from ’96 through 2021, then jumped to streaming, so she’s earned the exit. I keep saying she built an empire by reading paperwork, sniffing out nonsense mid-sentence, and making grown adults regret bringing screenshots to court — not cozy TV, more like “your aunt caught you.” Her son Adam Levy is rolling out Adam’s Law and trying to grab some of that gavel-glow. I’ve even heard rumors (and we joked about it on air) about a cheeky “Judge Judy Trump” idea — totally a rumor, totally ridiculous, and totally something we laughed at. Iguana Court TV might live on, but there’ll only ever be one Judge Judy, and that’s the tea.

Takeaways:

• I riff on Judge Judy retiring from TV at 83 and why she absolutely earned the chill life now.
• We recap her long TV run from 1996 through 2021 and her streaming show Judy Justice ending this October.
• I joke about Adam Levy trying to fill mom's bench with his show Adam's Law — awkward, ambitious, and kinda bold.
• I gush that Judy was the 'aunt who found out you lied' on TV — brutal, hilarious, and truth-slaying every time.
• We do a satirical bit imagining 'Judge Judy Trump' ruling like a cable courtroom meets Supreme Court — absurd, pointed, and wildly on-brand.

Gas prices are the highest they've ever been for this time of year — AAA says the national average is about $4.27/gal, up 13 cents in a week. Summer’s over, kids are back in school, the lake bag smells weird in the garage, and somehow the pump didn’t get the memo. You don’t need a chart or an economist — you just stand at the pump, watch the numbers spin, and wonder if your truck’s drinking out of spite. So yeah, I rant a little, then salute the real underappreciated hero: the gas station price-sign changer, out there with a 10-foot pole getting yelled at while they deliver the bad news. Don’t shoot the messenger — they’re just doing their job while the rest of us decide if that extra trip to Wally World is worth our retirement.

Takeaways:

• I complain that gas is at the highest price for this time of year, a weirdly specific and annoying record.
• AAA says the national average for regular is about $4.27 a gallon, up 13 cents in one week — ouch.
• We don't need charts or economists; you feel this inflation at the pump immediately when the numbers spin.
• Suddenly every errand becomes a budget meeting—driving to Wally World twice in one day feels like poor retirement planning.
• I proudly salute the gas station price sign changer — the poor soul who climbs out in storms with a ten‑foot pole.
• People blame the sign changer, but seriously please don't shoot the messenger—they're updating prices, not running the oil companies' yachts.

We open with the key fact: passengers on United Flight 93 learned the hijackers planned to use the plane as a weapon and chose to fight back, crashing the aircraft near Shanksville, Pennsylvania to stop it from reaching another target. The flight had been delayed out of Newark, and by the time it was seized the attacks on New York and Washington were already underway. People on board made calls, learned what was happening on the ground, and realized this wasn’t a normal hijacking. With only minutes and incomplete information, passengers and crew decided to try to retake the plane. At 10:03 Eastern the plane crashed; all aboard were killed, but the aircraft never hit another target, and their actions changed the course of that day. I want us to remember both the horror of what happened and the courage of strangers who chose to act for one another.

Takeaways:

• I describe how passengers quickly learned about the other attacks and made urgent calls to loved ones.
• We had minutes and incomplete info, yet those aboard Flight 93 decided to fight back together and try to retake the plane.
• I say this episode reminds us that ordinary people can make extraordinary choices when faced with terrifying uncertainty.
• I reflect that, on September 11th, amidst horror and confusion, strangers sat together and decided to act, sacrificing themselves to stop a greater attack on more lives.
• We emphasize remembrance that honors courage and also warns us about the stakes of hate and violence in our world.
• I stress that their quick calls and choices changed history that morning, preventing further destruction that otherwise might have occurred.

We're remembering September 11th, 25 years on — and the main point up front: while thousands were rushing down and out of the World Trade Center, firefighters and first responders deliberately went the other way into the danger. I keep coming back to that image of crowds descending the stairwells and crews climbing up — it tells you a lot about who we are. Most people escaped — thousands survived — but 343 members of the FDNY were killed, and they weren't just a number; they had families, plans, lives. We talk about how that day showed humanity at its worst and, almost immediately, its absolute best: strangers helping strangers. So we're honoring the loss and remembering the courage of folks who ran toward the crisis — no sappy speeches, just honest respect.

Takeaways:

• I remind listeners, real talk, that amid horror thousands survived by following instructions and helping each other.
• We reflect on firefighters and first responders who knew the danger and still climbed toward it to help strangers.
• I hate reducing 343 members of the Fire Department to a number; they were people with families, plans, and lives.
• We remember that while September 11th exposed humanity's worst, it also revealed extraordinary compassion and selflessness immediately after.
• I keep thinking about the image of people going down stairs while firefighters literally went up into danger.
• We should hold both the grief for those lost and the gratitude for those who acted bravely each September 11th.
• I want us to remember survivors' stories: thousands evacuated, coworkers helped one another, and first responders kept moving toward harm.

We mark the 25th anniversary of September 11 and remember the 2,977 lives lost, and we stress how everything on that morning unfolded in just 102 minutes. We walk through the timeline: Flight 11 hit the North Tower at 8:46, Flight 175 hit the South Tower at 9:03, Flight 77 struck the Pentagon at 9:37, Flight 93 crashed in Pennsylvania at 10:03, and the towers collapsed within that short span. That day was experienced one jaw-dropping moment at a time — there wasn’t time to process one thing before the next thing hit. We talk about the first responders, the people who tried to save others, and how that day changed airports, airspace, and the country in ways viewers couldn’t have imagined then. We pause and remember together, and we invite you to join us in a moment of silence.

Takeaways:

• I remind listeners that September 11 unfolded in rapid, sequential moments, giving people no time to process events.
• We walked through the exact timeline: first plane, second plane, Pentagon strike, Flight 93, and both towers collapsing within 102 minutes.
• I emphasize the human cost: 2,977 lives lost and countless families forever changed by that morning.
• We note how airspace, airports, and national policy changed almost instantly after that single catastrophic morning.
• I argue that remembering the timeline matters because the day wasn't one event but a series of unfolding shocks that reshaped American life and policy for decades.

Today marks 25 years since September 11, 2001, and I want to spend some time remembering that day with the respect it deserves. I’ll be honest—this isn’t my usual nonsense; we’ll pause the jokes for a bit and reflect on how that ordinary Tuesday turned into something none of us expected. It was a clear, sunny morning—people dropping kids off, grabbing coffee, worrying about traffic—then at 8:46am American Airlines Flight 11 struck the North Tower and at 9:03am United Flight 175 hit the South Tower, and everything changed. There’s now a generation that knows 9/11 as history, not memory, and for those of us who lived it we can still pick out tiny details that split life into before and after. I’ll play some tunes too, but I wanted to acknowledge the weight of the day and remember those moments with the dignity they deserve.

Takeaways:

• I mark 25 years since September 11, 2001, and we take part of the morning to remember.
• We recall it was an ordinary Tuesday morning before the attacks abruptly changed life for millions.
• American Airlines Flight 11 struck the North Tower at 8:46am, and United Flight 175 hit the South Tower at 9:03am.
• We note American Flight 77 left Washington Dulles and United Flight 93 left Newark after a delay, with Flight 93 departing at 8:41am.
• We remember how tiny personal details—where we were, who we called, what we watched—became permanent dividing-line memories.

We ripped through the Morning 6-Pack — the top six things every American should be able to do without instructions, and the survey results make that the main headline. Turns out 73% say they can cook white rice, 67% can change a diaper, 60% can sew on a button, but only 39% can change a flat tire — cars, apparently, are where we melt down. Yours truly even admitted I'm "excluded" from some of those humble brag skills, lol. We toss out goofy must-dos like driving with your knees so you can text, making a jug clang with your tobacco, catching a foul ball without spilling your beard, and reattaching your bumper with duck beat. I’m not giving away the top pick here — you gotta listen for the number-one finish, and trust me, it’s a doozy.

Takeaways:

• I gotta say, survey shows most folks can cook white rice and change diapers without instructions.
• We noticed 73% can cook rice, but only 39% would change a flat tire without YouTube help.
• I laugh: baby boomers grew up fixing stuff, and men brag about tire skills but might've just watched their dad.
• We dropped a jokey top six list — drive with your knees, duct-tape a bumper, catch a foul ball without ruining your beard, and ride a mechanical bull drunk.
• I'm serious though: relying on YouTube isn't the same as knowing how; we should actually practice basic life skills.

Sept 10 is National School Picture Day — one of my favorite dumb little holidays. I’m talking gym, a stranger with a fake forest backdrop, 18 seconds of patience, and a kid being told “don’t you dare spill that” about 11 minutes before they inevitably do. It’s not about looking good, it’s a government-adjacent portrait machine that somehow freezes the absolute worst version of you — one eye half-closed, hair doing a weather event, braces shining like a crime scene. And yet, of course, parents buy them like they’re priceless time capsules of annual awkwardness. I’ve got a fifth-grade photo that proves the point: pimple, nerd clothes, cowlick for days — bad bangs are forever, baby.

Takeaways:

• I celebrated National School Picture Day by roasting the ritual—awkward poses, fake forest backgrounds, and frantic last-minute shirt warnings.
• We joked that school photos are basically government-adjacent portraits taken in gyms by strangers with only about 18 seconds of patience.
• I said the pictures somehow always catch your exact worst angle—one eye squinting, braces flashing, hair doing weather events.
• Parents still buy them, though, because I swear those little wallet photos are emotional time capsules of pure awkwardness.
• I even riffed on my own fifth-grade disaster photo—pimple, nerd clothes, crooked smile—proof that childhood fashion crimes are forever.