Now, hello again, friends. And we hope you're having a pleasant day today. Welcome back to another edition of Jim Cornets Drive through right here, wherever it is that you pull up each and every week.

I'm going to be asking you to listen to your favorite podcast. I am your host, the great Brian last and I'm very pleased to present to you right out of the cage.

The man will be answering your questions, Mr. Jim Cornet. Blow your fucking great nice day at your ass. How's that? What's the problem? Oh, for fuck's sake, you know, I try to relax. I try. I tell you, I just can't relax.

You know, we talked on the experience last week. I won't go into a long rant here. Sure I won't. We talked on the experience last week when I got back from the long trip there, Chicago and back cold weather.

You know, hard work, good work on the MLW TV program. Everybody seemed happy with everything. But I came home, you know, I got an unpack. I've got the writing project for fighting spirit. I've got the Cornets collectibles orders. We've been swamped. We got so many new listeners. The successes running rampant here in Cornetland, right.

And Wednesday night, Cornetland in Cornetland. Yes. It's well, they've shot Neverland to hell now. So I'm going to start Cornetland. But in the world of Cornet, the world of Jim Cornet never sleeps. I've stole that from somebody somewhere. But anyway, I finally got the column out and the stuff unpacked and things and and and indent in the in the Cornets collectibles orders. But I, Wednesday night, like 10 years ago, I was going to say, I'm going to start Cornetland.

Wednesday night, like 10 o'clock at night, I hit the fucking wall. I say, you know what? Because I never do this. You know me. I never take a day off. I don't go on vacation. My vacation is when I come home from being on the road and I'm back at home. That's my vacation. But I don't take time off. It's like only Anderson said one time.

When he was the bookery said, all the fucking guys want days off. They want time off. For sure, they just wrestle. I can just say, I won't book you in Winston Salem. And you got a day off. But I'm a booker. I think for a living. What am I going to do? Get up one day and say, I'm not going to fucking think. Right. That's how only thought thinking.

So I said, you know, I got to ring my brain out as the big cat would say, you got to ring your brain is like a sponge. When it absorbs all the knowledge that it can. It must be rung out.

And so I said, you know, I'm going to take two days. Nobody's going to eat me if this happens. There's nothing on fire. I'm not going to be nobody's going to show up at front door with rubber hoses and pummel me into insensibility if just two days, 48 hours.

I don't I get good night's sleep. I eat good, hold some home cooked food instead of crap on the road like I was. I I sit in my hot tub and rest my weary bones. I ring my brain out. I watch some television.

I play with my dog, Harley Quinn, because after all happiness is a warm puppy.

And a lot of puppy, puppy, puppy, puppy, puppy, puppy, belly, puppy, puppy, puppy, puppy, rubber, baby, buggy bumpers. I don't know what the fuck.

So yeah, I do this for two days for 48 hours. I don't get on the Twitter. I don't get on the email.

I don't get on the telephone. I say, I'm not because you know me. Once again, weekends, holidays, I always have a list of things to do every day. I get up in the morning. It's already it's like a heaviness. When I wake up, I go, hi, heaviness.

It's dwelling on me. What have I got to do today?

How have I got to make the people happy today? What have I got to do to justify my existence? I'm always busy. I'm never caught up. I'm always behind.

I threw out the today to do list each day. I just said, fuck it and I relaxed.

And then I'm going to get out in today where we're recording. It's on the weekend. Let's just say

we're recording the show for Monday. And I figure I'll get back to work because now be rested, refreshed, relaxed.

I wake up this morning. I don't know if it's the fucking gout again. If there's a podiatrist out there. Oh no.

Suddenly for no apparent purpose, the bottom of my foot, the heel, the pads of the bones under your foot, right? Everything that touches the ground

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