Papa's Basement

Let's be honest: Motivating yourself to go to the gym is hard. This isn't 1974. You can be a 400-pound blob and, between "adult" Internet content, Netflix, video games and Chipotle, you don't really need to be in shape enough for a partner or able to use stairs without sweating like a long distance runner in order to live a fulfilling (if addiction-addled) life. Somehow, though, I have mustered the willpower to join a gym again. And I'm encountering a new reason to avoid it that I never expected would be a factor: The trainers.

We all hate personal trainers (and I say this as a man who, albeit very briefly, worked as one). They march around like they own the place, take peoples' money to mostly talk to them for 15 minutes between each set they perform and try to hustle new faces in the gym like a pimp would a hayseed Iowa beauty fresh to Hollywood. But one trainer at my new gym takes the annoyance factor to new heights. A man I have christened "Mohawk."

What is it that Mohawk does that makes me root for a spinal compression occurring every time I see him squat? You'll have to listen to the episode for that. But it's a laundry list of "please punch me in the dick because I am a Niagara Falls' worth of douche nozzle" That much I assure you. Don't forget to share this glorious piece of literature and tell all your friends to listen to the show.

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Co-host Pete lives about 350 yards from the West Virginia border. And West Virginia, compared to Virginia, has a very vice-laden vibe. To say nothing of its vibrant (if underground) meth and opioid smuggling industries, there are strip clubs all over the place (whether you want to see what's inside is a different matter). The liquor stores stay open well past midnight. And, the part that's relevant to today's story, there are casinos and horse tracks all over the place.

I'm not much of a gambler. I don't like losing money and I can understand rudimentary probability tables, so I understand I won't come out ahead. Pete, on the other hand, is a man of "fool-proof" wagering systems who also happens to enjoy indoor smoking and gin and tonics made by casino employees who have seen more tears shed than an undertaker. So, in an act of some out-of-show bonding, we took a trip to the Hollywood Casino at Charles Town Races. Did Pete win the big one? Did I get to laugh for hours on end at old drunks losing their money? Did a beautiful hooker working the track decide to stop plying her trade and live the life of an honest woman to be with me? I'll give you a hint: One of these things happened.

Game of Thrones is also back with this weekend's season six premiere, and John noticed something about the show that he should have noticed a long time ago. A revelation that has been several seasons in the making. (Relax, my insight spoils nothing: I just realized there's a character whose breasts might have secretly been the best pair on the show. It's the kind of spoiler safe for both fan and ogler.)

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Yesterday started with the passing of Chyna. She seemed like a very tragic case who was mistreated big time by her former employer, the WWE, and ended up getting piped up the pooper on camera (a reference to both her film, Backdoor to Chyna and having to spend time on Celebrity Rehab around that ghoul Dr. Drew). While I felt a little bad (because I ironically watched BTC more than once, I could cope with Chyna's passing. How brave I am. I know.

Then the celebrity death bombshell factory decided to drop Fat Man on all of us and kill Prince. Those that have listened to the show know I hate when people get all demonstrative about the passing of someone they didn't know on a personal level. And I stand by that. But goddamn, the world was a better place for having that weird little genius in it.

Prince was the last of the great rock and roll musicians. And by rock and roll, I mean guys in the classic tradition of Chuck Berry, Elvis and James Brown, not those mudshark-crammers Led Zepplin. He put on shows with grove and dancing and swagger. Sure, he could shred like a motherfucker, but what he really wanted was to dazzle you with his polish. There was a professionalism and fanaticism to his work that, coupled with his astonishing level of genius, made for a being the likes of which we aren't soon to see again.

That is why the majority of the show is dedicated to talking about Prince's music, the crazy shit he did, and the even crazier tail he pulled. (Unlike me, when referring to Prince, "crazy tail" connotes a level of quality, not a lack of basic sanity.) He really was one of the best there ever was and best there ever will be. And don't forget he had an ass so tight you could use to open a bottle. RIP.

Click here to listen to the latest episode of Papa's Basement in your browser or here to open and listen in iTunes (you can also use the embedded player below the ad).

Last week, Mötley Crüe singer Vince Neil got into a fight with Nic Cage. It's the kind of shit the Internet eats up, at least until the next thing to hold our shattered attention spans arrives six hours later. Growing up a fan of "the Crüe" (did my insistence on using the umlauts give it away?), it was a story I felt I had to mention on-air. They were (and are) a weird band, whose life story is filled with the insanity I want out of a rock band. Go whack off to Sigur Rós playing guitar with a bow all you want: I want to hear about my musicians drinking piss and snorting ants, goddammit.

The weirdest thing is that Vince Neil is the saner element of this story (which can rarely be said). Remember, Nic Cage had at least a veneer of normalcy to him for a time. I mean, they weren't casting him as a lead in The Rock because it was known he was batshit: It took a few years for that to come out. Crazy worlds collided on Friday in Vegas as Nic Cage restrained and almost tenderly kissed Vince after Vince apparently threw down a female fan...we discuss on air and laugh at both parties.

We also have a new co-hostess make her debut on the show: co-hostess Sara. I'm not exactly the king of the clever nickname. And for those of you who have listened to the show long enough to remember Doug "DTet" Tetreault, he managed to marry his lovely now-wife Amber over the weekend. I botched getting my plane tickets in time like the ADD typhoon of procrastination that I am and missed the ceremony, but we at least got to talk marriage and Texas, specifically how Texas has some balls charging more than $50 to enter its borders (considering how many do it for free, hiyo!) and that, in a few years (according to Sara), I will start to be treated to a cavalcade of couples in my peer group getting divorced. Finally, Zuckerburg's privacy deletion machine will have a payoff.

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First things first, Shawn F. visiting the show and Garry Shandling passing away are unrelated: I simply wanted to include both elements of the show in the title. It's not like the man entering our studio was the fulfillment of some ancient Indian curse that doomed poor GS.

For those of you that weren't fans of the Opie & Anthony Show, Shawn is a highly talented creator of parody songs who contributed prolifically to their show over the years. I met him online a few years ago via Twitter, and we've stayed in touch since. He was finally able to swing by the studio, and he was great on-air, even unveiling his latest parody song, "Lazy Train." The guy's Soundcloud deserves a listen. And if you're wondering why the subject of Shawn's every song is the talented host of It's Erik Nagel, Erik Nagel (you should have seen that coming given the show's name), whom I also consider a friend...I have no clue. Given that Shawn also likes the guy, it's oddly fascinating, to say the least.

Moving on to Garry Shandling's passing, I usually laugh at anyone who is bummed by a celebrity's passing. Stars tend to die years after their creative output peaked, and you never had any real connection with them to begin with: It was their art you loved. When David Bowie croaked, if you were a Bowie fan, well, it wasn't like your copy of Hunky Dory was ripped off your shelf and buried with the man. He wasn't a pharaoh. You had precisely as much David Bowie in your life before his death as you did afterward.

Garry Shandling's death made me realize I'm just a prick who doesn't like many celebs, though, because holy hell did it bum me out. I've said this before, and I'll say it again: The Larry Sanders Show is the best comedy I've ever seen, and you owe it to yourself to click that link and order the damn thing if you haven't watched it. Gary Shandling was brilliant as both its star and creator, and he will be missed immensely.

We also talk Scarlett Johansson's bizarre Under The Skin, a movie that features her nude for roughly 47 minutes yet manages to be completely, almost painfully, unarousing, and the death of Joe Medicine Crow whom, despite that fine Polish name, was actually an ancient Native American with a very fascinating life.

Click here to listen to the latest episode of Papa's Basement in your browser or here to open and listen in iTunes (you can also use the embedded player below the ad).

Co-host Pete and I pay a visit to Staten Island, aka Shaolin Land, home to the famed Wu-Tang Clan. And, with any visit to Staten, comes multiple trips on the Staten Island Ferry (coincidentally, a nickname I derisively called Pete for the entirety of the trip), which is a free, floating prison that serves booze and operates 24/7 to dump people in Manhattan and vice versa. Hear the highlights of the trip, including a women dressed in a manner that made me re-experience puberty, Pete puking on the streets like a goddamn vagrant, and the trip's highlight, an insane man running around the ferry for the entirety of its 25 minute trip screaming about how he juggled being a Muslim AND a gangsta. Did I mention he was wearing Easter Bunny ears?

Click here to listen to the latest episode of Papa's Basement in your browser or here to open and listen in iTunes.

He was like a Brando that could throw a punch. The Muscles from Brussels.We tried to use the terror attacks in Brussels to remember the great things about that city. Since we are uncultured dolts, our list began and ended with Jean-Claude Van Damme, aka The Muscles From Brussels. Not familiar with his work? Watch the final fight from Bloodsport here and be awed. Then, click here to rent the film from Amazon (because I know you'll be clamoring for the full dong after an inch of that 80s goodness). We also discuss Alfred Morris leaving the Redskins to shit on our hearts by joining the Dallas Cowboys, why Judd Apatow's new show Love ended really poorly and the Hulk Hogan sex tap settlement with Gawker. All that and an emotional send-off to co-hostess Butters. In one hour. We're supermen.

Click here to listen to the latest episode of Papa's Basement in your browser or here to open and listen in iTunes.

This episode is a love letter to Major League, a favorite film of mine as a kid and one I finally got to see on the big screen this weekend. Why is Major League so damn good? You'll have to listen to find out (preferably after clicking the link above to rent the movie via Amazon and toss me a few cents via the affiliate link). I also talk about my latest bro-douche vice, vaping, and tell a story of a work day so bad that it would rival any fat woman that walked in to Al Bundy's shoe store. Stay in school, kids. (Or invent an app which makes you millions. That's much smarter than school.)

Click here to listen to the latest episode of Papa's Basement in your browser or here to open and listen in iTunes.

Marrying young is a mistake, and I do my best to spread that wisdom whenever possible. So, when co-host butters mentioned that two friends of hers were getting married at 23 AFTER STARTING OFF AS FUCKING HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS, MEANING I REALLY DOUBT THESE TWO HAVE EVER HAD SEX WITH ANYONE ELSE, well, I do my best to kick a little wisdom their way. Hear about that and the penis-shaped object-filled bachelorette party Butters has planned and the bland, sexless bachelor party awaiting the groom IN AN ADJOINING FUCKING CABIN on the latest episode of the Papa's Basement Podcast.

Click here to listen to the latest episode of Papa's Basement in your browser or here to open and listen in iTunes.

Before my right-wing friends think this is going to be some liberal jackathon, it ain't: I believe that, way more than any shadowy agenda, Hollywood is way more greedy than racist. So, if it's market forces that are creating a lot of what people find racist in Hollywood, is there still some casual racism that has nothing to do with cash that we can still point at and laugh about? Sure. And I tell you exactly what it is in this episode, which also covers Chris Rock and the Oscars, as well as Super Tuesday and its fallout. Please subscribe, share and tell your friends. New listeners are awesome and make the cast feel really appreciated. And by cast, I mean me.

Click here to listen to the latest episode of Papa's Basement in your browser or here to open and listen in iTunes.