Episode 2296: Kid A.G., El Pres, and Hat Trick walked into the studio like three people who definitely should not be allowed microphones. What followed was the usual circus of bad ideas and worse opinions.
We started with Demi Moore's new movie The Substance, where she basically clones a younger, hotter, meaner version of herself. Hollywood's message is crystal clear: aging is fine, as long as you're willing to let your younger clone murder you and wear your skin like a prom dress. Honestly, sign me up. I'd kill present-day me for a 25-year-old upgrade too. We all would. Don't lie.
From there we took a hard left into the Smithsonian-level exhibit of pubic hair through the decades. The 1970s had bushes you could lose a toddler in. The 90s gave us the landing strip, which is just nature's way of saying "the runway is clear, please crash your plane into my vagina." And now? Bald. Completely bald. Like a porn star or a dolphin. Grown adults are out here waxing themselves into pre-pubescent seals because apparently hair is the ultimate boner kryptonite. Congratulations, humanity, we've solved sex by turning it into a slip-n-slide.
Politics tried to crawl in (something about Epstein files), but we gave it the 45-second mercy kill it deserved. Nobody came here to feel depressed; we came here to feel confused and slightly aroused.
AI music is apparently so good now that the guys made a legit alt-metal intro in thirty seconds. Thirty. Seconds. Your band has been practicing in your mom's basement for twelve years and still sounds like a trash-can fire. Skynet just replaced you with a laptop and a dream.
In other news, competitive sperm racing is a thing and it just raised ten million dollars. Ten. Million. Somewhere there's a venture capitalist watching tadpoles do laps while yelling "SWIM, YOU LITTLE TRUST-FUND BABIES, DADDY NEEDS A YACHT."
Some study says seventy percent of people would rather go to a concert than have sex. Seventy percent. The crew reacted the way normal humans do: with violent, screaming denial. Who are these eunuchs? Name them. I want to fight them in a parking lot while a Dave Matthews cover band plays in the background.
Hat Trick then treated us to the Director's Cut of her weekend with the new fireman: Hampton Inn points, drinks, an hour-long first round, choking on date one (very romantic), and a recovery time so fast the entire room accused him of mainlining sketchy blue pills. Also "good girl" still turns her into a puddle. Science is undefeated.
We rounded things out with Ozempic side effects, breeding kinks, praise kinks, Andrew Tate's nightmare hypothetical (Megan Fox with a dick vs Hulk Hogan with a pussy—still the worst would-you-rather in history), personal 24-hour body-count records that would make Caligula blush, a brutal takedown of the "women don't need men" TikTok crowd (congrats on the vibrator, enjoy dying alone with twelve cats and a charging cable), and the daily reminder that your phone is listening to you masturbate.
Oh, and Paralyzer's Hottie of the week is back, a wiffle-ball-bat phone prank went full war crime, and the AI closed the show with an Irish-punk song telling everyone to chuck their phone into the ocean because it's just a glass pacifier for adults who are terrified of silence.
Same circus, Same clowns. Press play and lower your expectations accordingly.
Explicit • You already knew that • #GoinDeepShow #Episode2296
