Hoot! Hoot! Hoot! Hoot!

What is cracking here we are. Another fucking week at Talking Shop.

Dropping an F-bomb five seconds into the damn thing. I drop F-bombs.

The other day I was talking to my wife. She asked me a question. I said,

well it's fucking over there. Like it's fucking to the left over the thing.

Just you don't have to cuss at me. I said, wasn't cussing at you. I just cussing.

That's how I speak. It's how I use language. I understand

that it's not always proper or professional or whatever, but it's just what the boys do.

When me and Gallows and Rocky talk to each other, we use a lot of F-bombs.

If you speak with your friends, depending on who you are,

the crew that you're with, I mean there's a lot of F-bombs in there.

And I think that if somebody listened to us at like a restaurant, they probably would think we're

fucking psychos with all the F-bombs. And I have heard

that for talking shop, we've actually got to tone some of the F-bombs down.

I think we're losing some money, maybe some ads or something.

But listen, dammit, I'm not going against who we are or what talking shop is.

What talking shop is built on is us being us. It's putting a microphone in the middle of three

sons of bitches who have just had too many beers or too much red wine or too much sake.

And it's talking about what the fuck is going on in our life.

Ladies and gentlemen, talk at shop. Here we are. It's just me. It's just the machine gun.

It's just Karl Anderson. It's just Chad Allegra, whatever the fuck you want to call me,

doesn't matter because if you Google Karl Anderson, yeah, I think we talked about that.

...