Episode 2304 – Kid AG and Wally get on the mics and yap about the resurgence of wild, untamed pubes spilling out of bikinis—old-school nasty is back, and they're equal parts horrified and "whatever, I'll deal if I'm down there."

Wally drops a voicemail bomb from weeks ago where he was raging "don't trust these lying sacks of shit women," setting the stage for him to unleash the main event: he's balls-deep into his ex's bestie—a 110-pound soaking-wet blonde smoke show with killer tits, blue eyes, and three years of dick drought until he wrecked her so hard she limped funny at Thanksgiving dinner.

The saga starts with drunken late-night 4-8 hour phone marathons, guilt-fueled confessions to the ex (who melts down screaming about getting back together in 6-12 months—bitch, you cheated and went bonkers!), epic first fucks including finger-banging, manhandling her tiny frame, and Christmas day-drunk whipped-cream corn-out-of-the-asshole fuckfests.

Now she's pumping brakes hard because he's still technically ball and chained untill March, ghosting texts after he sends her a Sydney Sweeney doggy-costume cunty-rubbing clip ("you're driving me crazy"), and he's refusing the friend zone

Kid shares parallel post-breakup wisdom—go 1-2 years single, fuck around, no ties.

Wally explains his summer with Hat Trick (wanting more than he could give with kid schedules and rust-bucket truck life). They pivot to ex-drama concerns (mental illness, pre-menopause family curse, hiding shit from the show because "don't ever talk about me"), then rag on brainwashed politics, skyrocketing prices, currency collapse doom, ICE raids in Minnesota, Somalis/Mexicans and billionaire pedos. Surprise!

They call G-Dub (now with fiber internet). Kid does his usual round of roasting trannies, retards making a comeback, face shootings, ICE puns, Trump stroke rumors, Virgin Islands oil jokes, 90 inches of snow, and Yogurt Yeti-inspired butthole toppings.

They wrap up with blow-up doll regrets (no holes!), Eiffel tower pics, and promises to link up more. Classic Goin' Deep: sloppy hookups, ex meltdowns, racist riffs, and degenerate crew vibes.

It's the usual nonsense. What the fuck else do you expect from these cards.

Episode 2303: is a goddamn birthday-party-hating, period-shaming, toy-stretching, ICE-raging fever dream that makes your family reunion look like a therapy session! Hat Trick kicks off by declaring kid birthdays dead—send a card, fuck the production then unleashes on her dad's 20-year-divorce bitterness: "We don't do that in this house, Dad!" after he period-shames his granddaughter.

They roast the CES "Handy" masturbator (hands-free mounting, VR porn sync—mount it on the wall and let it jack you stupid), debate tentacle dildos, and fantasize about tip-to-tip races with the boys while Hat Trick catches the load on her tits. Top-five dick confirmed—again.

Politics? Low-boil fury: Trump dodging a dead soldier's funeral to brag about West Virginia votes, EPA caring more about business than dead bodies, and martial law whispers for midterms that might never happen. Pedo-protector legend gets a million-dollar GoFundMe, UAW backing, and Nobel Prize memes—while billionaires gain a trillion in year one.

Fake AI ads, grandma titties, and a Dropkick Murphys-style "pedo protector" anthem close it out. 2303 episodes of pure, unfiltered retarded glory—still hating birthdays, still measuring knots, still flipping off the system. Go Deep forever, motherfuckers!

Episode 2302: Kid A.G. starts by admitting he blew a blood vessel in his eye from doing something so hard (or laughing at a comedy show), then spirals into eye doctor nightmares where a literal gecko-woman with divergent lazy eyes tries to measure his pupils like she's cross-eyed calibrating a missile. Progressives? $700 for bifocals? Nah, he's dreaming of Ray-Ban smart glasses so he can translate foreigners while dodging ICE death squads.

Hat Trick unleashes the main event: New Year's Eve turned full-on threesome with the fireman (backwards hat on while railing Zul bent over) and Zul herself—shots as lube, midnight makeouts, fingering while getting plowed, Hat Trick eating her out till puke o'clock.

Politics? Pure rage boner: ICE murders in Minnesota. 47-day trained trigger-happy incels with $50k bonuses, Trump declaring "my own morality" as his only limit (so rape, pay off porn stars, kidnap leaders—cool cool). Clips roast draft-dodger defenders, spineless cronies, and cultists still slurping golden-toilet slop while the world laughs at America's fascist clown show. Olympics? Cancel that shit before terrorists RSVP.

Wally's voicemail rant? "Women are animals, liars, despicable—start your engines toward the bar!" Man's spiraling into nationalist booze hell. Dropkick Murphys-style AI protest songs? Chef's kiss to the ICE wankers.

This episode is unhinged boomer rage meets cum-drenched triumph—proof after 2302 eps, these degenerates are still gloriously retarded, still fucking, still screaming at the sky. Peak Goin' Deep!

Episode 2301: Kid A.G. and The Mayor JMac from Minneapolis hop on the mic for a 45-minute ramble that's basically two middle-aged degenerates high-fiving over ancient flash drives full of Key West debauchery and orange-skirt thirst traps from 2012. They mourn Path like it was a dead puppy, geek out on AI turning dusty bar pics into living, breathing crew circle-jerks (Lance Parrish three-way handshakes? Chef's kiss), and Kid's dropping stacks on Suno songs that could make Nurse Fiona's cougar tales sound like a Grammy winner.

Then bam—Secret Santa drops the nuke: Kid unwraps **Clayton Kershaw's rookie nameplate** from the Loons, glue chunks and all, like it's the Holy Grail of Low-A baseball relics. Kid's ready to frame that shit in his office and jerk off to Hall of Fame dreams. Meanwhile, the world's on fire: Minneapolis ICE shooting a single mom in her Honda Pilot (whistles vs. guns, folks—poet mom turned "domestic terrorist" in 0.2 seconds), kids skipping class for walkouts, and Russian subs lurking like bad exes. Tigers fans sweating Tarik deals, potential strikes, and AI cloning —because why not resurrect dead voices when the apocalypse is trending?

This ain't therapy, it's two old-school bros bullshitting through the end times with Jordans on the counter, retro apps, and enough subscription fees to buy a small island. Episode 2301: proof these fuckers are still retarded after 20+ years, and thank fuck for it!

Episode 2300: Kid A.G. blasts an AI banger about cougar Nurse Fiona ghosting pilots on her Florida Keys's trip after an epic box-munching sessions. Then Hat Trick unleashes her inner sex goddess, bragging about massive loads glazing her like a Krispy Kreme, rope play with a fireman who's packing a dragon dick, and plotting threesomes that'd make Caligula blush. L.B. crashes the party fresh from work, dropping helpin the Kid with some ruck ambitions. Kid roasts hospitals as high school 2.0, full of dumb-smart people swapping nudes and God complexes. Exes pop up like bad herpes, kids sass back, and everyone's dodging feelings like dodgeballs. This ain't your vanilla chit-chat—it's a filthy dumpster fire of cum cubes, ghosting, and glow-in-the-dark bondage that'll leave you questioning your life choices while cackling your ass off! Listen in. Go Deep.

Kid A.G., El Pres, and Hat Trick pile into The Studio and immediately unload on Bay City's traffic nightmare—Veterans Bridge construction turning every drive into a rage-inducing crawl while the city pretends it's progress.

Hat Trick breaks down small-town politics: old-timers screaming about nonexistent crime waves fueled by Facebook bots and Fox News, demanding a police force the budget can't touch, while the new mayor actually does the homework to shut it down.

Conversation swings to never feeling scared in local dive bars, teenage kids learning to drive, and Hat Trick's daughter already licensed while her son couldn't care less. Fedorov jersey retirement sparks Wings ticket excitement, stories of past games, and old-school hockey nostalgia.

Things get filthy fast—AI chatbots turning lonely people into digital sex addicts, Kid demoing a disturbingly eager bot that escalates from casual to full-on dirty talk in seconds. Hat Trick shares fireman hook-up details (double loads, dripping hours later), debates whether catching your partner sexting an AI would piss you off, and insists women won't ditch real dick for robots.

Stack dating, quiet quitting, media hype, generational gripes, avocado toast myths, and pretentious academic word salads all get roasted.

OnlyFans cash potential, missed pregnant photo ops, feet pics, and spinning off platforms come up alongside hottie worship. Elvis outtakes, facial finish obsessions, AI-generated motorboat songs, and dinosaur-hand jerk fantasies close it out.

Pure rambling Michigan chaos—traffic rants to cum-dripping texts, zero script, all tangents.

Episdoe 2298 - Kid A.G. and El Pres coming to you from Murphy's Irish Lair, digging through old episodes for retro rewinds and getting lost in the memories

They yap about a straight-laced religious husband waking from anesthesia and unloading the dirtiest fantasies on his horrified nurse as his wife cries in a corner, proof that even the most buttoned-up people are packed with filth waiting to spill out.

Sobriety has stripped away Kid's excuses, so now every stupid thing he does has the potential to get called out loud, no buffer left. The Conversation veers into repressed urges and the relief of just not giving a damn. T

They drool over Hottie Rachel Cook's feed, scroll endless racks on same.energy, and cringe at a trans influencer whose illegal mineral-oil-and-laxative face injections turned her into a melted nightmare.

Baseball offseason chatter mixes with gripes about scattered streaming games, Diddy's mess hitting Netflix, mechanic liars, political ass-kissing, and AI-spawned songs about motorboating and soup-can dicks.

Kid rants about a flat tire in the cold, government shutdown threats, and a plea for listeners to blow up the hotline 989-341-3314 with whatever drunk chaos they've got. Just two guys talking shit, experimenting with tech, and refusing to polish any of it.

Go Deep.

Tired of sugary Christmas carols and fake holiday cheer? The Goin' Deep crew drops the ultimate anti-Christmas banger: raw, filthy, and unapologetic. Strippers, lube, dragon dildos, cum-stained mics, and a middle finger to jingle bells—Fuck your lights, fuck your snow—Merry fuckin' whatever, bitches. This is the only holiday track you need.

Go Deep.

#FuckChristmas

Episode 2297: Hat Trick walked in the day before she turns 39 looking like someone who'd been power-washed by sex and still had a smile on her face. Then she opened her mouth and the room needed a cigarette.

She casually mentions she watched gay hockey drama with her teenage daughter because "bonding." The kid now has a thing for Russian accents and sudden violence on ice. Great job, mom. You've raised a connoisseur.

Then the fireman shows up at 7 a.m. Sunday—unannounced, unapologetic—with a purple knotted dragon dildo the size of a municipal fire extinguisher. Hat Trick's exact review: "It didn't all fit, but I came so many times I forgot what numbers are." She followed that up with the quote of the year: "He has a really nice dick, but right now I want NOTHING more than that dick."

Kid A.G. took time out of his busy schedule of hiding cock rings in his girlfriend's sheets to drop wisdom on his 18-year-old self: "Never get married." Solid advice from a man currently living out of a duffel bag at his girlfriend's house like a horny hobo.

We let the AI, Eve, explain gooning. Turns out it's just staring at porn until your soul leaves your body and your dick files for disability. Mormons, in their infinite panic, built an actual anti-gooning app. Somewhere there's a prophet screaming "Put down the Kleenex and pick up the scriptures, Brayden!"

We revisited the greatest marriage theory ever invented: if she switches from Lucky Charms to granola, start looking for blowjobs in the goodbye letter. Explains 94 % of divorces and 100 % of mid-life affairs with yoga instructors.

Hat Trick actually blew off dinner with her own brother because the fireman texted "quickie?" and she responded before the message even finished sending. Family? What's that? There's a dragon dildo in the driveway with her name on it.

Birthday plans for tomorrow: the second the kids are out the door, scheduled birthday sex, followed by getting completely shitfaced in that exact order. Responsible parenting, everybody.

We also covered ghost shits (they happen, nobody knows why), eleven-dollar Nancy Sinatra karaoke tracks, Dua Lipa thirst traps that could restart your heart, and the national emergency of Rick Springfield still being absolutely jacked at 76. The man is 76 and looks like he could bench-press your dad. Retire already, Rick, you're making the rest of us look soft.

This episode is raw, unhinged, and contains zero apologies. Hat Trick's vagina deserves a Purple Heart and a parade.

Explicit as always. Hide your kids, hide your dragon dildos.

#GoingDeepShow #Episode2297

Kid and Nurse Fiona are coughing COVID into each other's faces, half-drunk on the cheapest booze in town. Highlights from the chaos:

• God personally shutting down the liquor shack to spite two alcoholics
• A Black pastor dropping the most accurate "men NEED sex like a car needs gas" sermon ever
• Fiona's 4-month no-nut streak: saving every drop for one girl, about to redecorate the ceiling
• Pro threesome tip: always take bottom
• The loud chick who got dick-stuffed mid-threesome just to shut her the hell up
• The tragic, deleted 13:45 double-BJ masterpiece (Superman shirt era, never forgotten)
• Afternoon surprise double blowjob while football's on TV
• Piece-of-ass vs. catching feels: the eternal struggle
• The brother-cousin "pin cushion" story that ends with accidental ball-touching and light incest
• Final verdict: if you're sword-fighting or docking, just own that you're a little gay