How do you pass up the opportunity to spit blood in Joan Baez's face?

I've read Mark Twain. I've read Huckleberry Finn. I think I earned the right to go out of the internet and see a guy get a chainsaw on the face. Dude, my dad was drunk and my mom was dealing with it. Guess what? I get raised by cookie monster.

My con looks like it's been in a hockey flight. Time is stupidity. It's at the speed of goddamn light.

I got a bunch of the clocks.

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

Is the air conditioning too much for you guys?

Can you hear it in the background?

I can turn it off.

But then you listen to me pouring sweat out of my pores,

dripping all over the goddamn microphone.

Do you really want to hear a wet show? Who wants a wet show? Who out there wants to feel like they're immersed in a kiddie pool filled with my sweat?

That's what it's like to fuck me, folks.

If you're underneath me, I'm just dripping sweat all over you.

How about that?

Why would you take that fucking imagery and fucking run with it?

Guys, ladies, who cares? and you love it because you look up at me and I'm working. I got my work face going and you're just like, holy shit. How did I get under this guy? Nobody wants to be under this guy and yet there you are.

Look at you. Staring up at me. My fucking hand are under throat. Well, that seems aggressive. Hold on.

Let's back off. Let's throttle down here. You know what? Let's just start with coffee. Why don't we have coffee? I promise not to sweat in your eyes at coffee. Hi. Last day of fucking school,

folks. Who knows what's going to happen here? This is week 52 of episode 11. Actually, no,

it's year 11. Jesus, fuck. Episode 52. I'd see the week, word week threw me off. Episode 52,

year 11. And technically it's like episode 59 of year 11.

How many fucking extra shows that I do this year?

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