Three eggs, earth, legs.

All right.

I'm going to go ahead and apologize to everybody listening this episode.

One thing that's maybe worse than deaf punk, just kidding, nothing's worse than deaf punk,

is listening to a stuffed up host of a podcast, my son, who I loved dearly, gave me some

toddler infectious disease of the nose, throat, and lungs.

If anybody out there works for Musin X, and they want to sponsor us, shoot me an email.

Quick update.

I'm doing great.

Not ill at all.

No kids drinking a 40 ounce of beer.

I got one from Mark too, but he's just kind of pretending to drink it.

I'm not pretending to drink it.

I'm drinking almost as much as you know.

I'm going to drink more.

Clearly Mark is suffering.

I am.

Listen, my son coughed up my nose, okay?

How we get it, dude, we get it.

It was rough.

But you know what's interesting is, even though in this sick, I could easily be a member

of deaf punk and nobody would ever know what if we are actually deaf punk and no one fucking

...