July 2026 Episode Delay Announcement

Who knew you could get arthritis in your neck and it could give you the worst pinched nerve? Well, the good Lord and the local pharmacist certainly did, which brings me to the lamentable news that the next episode of the Absurd Truths and Blatant Lies Podcast is going to be delayed by a spell. You see, S.M. Beaumont and every single one of the screaming, bantering voices in their head have been heavily, beautifully medicated all the way past Atlanta, and whatever coherent thoughts were left packed their bags and got entirely lost somewhere in the vicinity of Clarksville, Tennessee. We are currently operating on the spiritual equivalent of melted RC Cola and generic muscle relaxers, so until the fog clears from the hollow, the microphone must remain dark.

While we wait for the swelling to subside, we want to wish absolutely everyone a Happy July, and a magnificent, roaringly happy Independence Day to all our friends across the United States. Speaking of July, you know what that means for the local topography, because it is officially time to wish everyone in the South a Happy and Safe—Hey Y’all Watch This Season, which is a liturgical calendar event in itself. The sweet, smoky scent of sulfur and impending property damage is thick in the air, and frankly, if you aren't putting radioactive-green pickle relish on a hot dog charred to the consistency of a charcoal briquette, are you even truly alive? It is the time for taking a running leap off the diving board to execute a majestic, soul-crushing belly flop in the neighborhood pool, purely for the applause of three half-drowned toddlers and a very judgemental golden retriever.

You just have to respect the sheer, unadulterated poetry of those bone-chilling scenarios that always begin with the sacred invocation of "Hold My Beer!" right before someone tries to light a mortar shell inside a cast-iron skillet or jump a riding lawnmower over the drainage ditch. The firecrackers are snapping like aggressive cicadas, the humidity is thick enough to chew, and the ceiling fan is wobbling so hard it might just take flight and join the county fireworks display. It is a beautiful, chaotic tapestry of summer madness, but please do try to keep all your fingers and toes attached to your earthly vessels through the weekend. As a gentle, heavily sedated reminder for when the inevitable enthusiasm outpaces your survival instincts: the telephone number for 9-1-1 IS Nine One One.

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