How do you pass up the opportunity to spit blood and 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 at Mike Schmidt's 40-year-old boy podcast? Folks, I'm Mokin'Ladia.

I am in a room with five very confused people who don't know how to behave. It is strange.

It is odd for all of us. This is a live podcast, but yet it's a dead podcast because we ate beforehand.

None of us can move.

And literally none of us can fucking move.

Here's what I learned today.

Lasagna and enchiladas are cousins.

I did not know that, folks.

Italian, Mexican, Mexican, Italian, doesn't matter what flag they're flying under.

It's the exact same fucking dish.

It's beef and noodles and sleep. That's all you got in a fucking aluminum tray with lasagna and goddamn enchiladas.

Hi, how are you? Do I sound different because I'm in Canada? I think I should because you know what?

I find myself seeing like a boot and shit like that and two and do. Why do I say dough? What is

dough? I don't even know what dough means. But I find myself saying it certainly comes up every now and

again.

In Canada, on my 11th day, far too long.

This is way too long.

Now I'm a citizen.

...