How do you pass up the opportunity to spit blood in Joan Baez's face? Dude, I'm so funny I had murdered an Epiglottis.

Let's round him a faceless and get some pajamas.

Dude, I didn't know my head was a bank.

That's fucking awesome.

I want to eat so many ducy rolls.

I just shit a tire.

I jerked off in this towel so much, it might be a surfboard.

Mr. Schmidt is an entertainer.

Not a cool.

Hey, what's happening to Mike Schmidt, 40-year-old boy podcast?

Yeah, right, one of those days when it seems like everyone's on your case,

from your teacher, all the way down to your best girlfriend.

Well, I feel that way all the time.

But I've found a way to get out of it. Actually, I haven't found a way to get out of it.

Unfortunately, that's why I'm recording this on fucking Thursday.

This show is usually available on Thursday.

Thursday morning sitting there waiting for you like a Thursday present.

As if Christmas were a Thursday all week long, or every week long or every month long,

or every Thursday of the year was Christmas.

That's what I'm trying to say. See, this is the shit that made me stop yesterday. Yesterday and Tuesday, fuck.

I tried Tuesday. I sat down to record and I was there. It was election day. And here's the thing.

I don't know if this is interesting. I don't know if you want to plumb the depths of my skull and get in there with me and dig around and see what the fuck happened. Because truthfully, I don't know if this is interesting. I don't know if you want to plumb the depths of my skull and get in there with me and

...