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 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 a cookie monster.

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

I got a bunch of the clocks.

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

Folks, you know that feeling you get when you have like a, maybe a long weekend?

Let's call it a long weekend.

Say you got a Friday, Saturday, Sunday off.

Or, you know, let's go it Saturday, Sunday, off. You know, let's go on Saturday, Sunday, Monday. Let's call it that. Nah, you know what?

I want to include Monday in the analogy here.

Let's say you have a Friday off.

Somehow there's a holiday.

Like the 4th of July is a Friday.

Let's call it that.

So Friday, Saturday, Sunday, you end up with a long three-day weekend.

And what do you do on Thursday. You're just dawdling. You're sitting there waiting. All you want to do is go ahead and participate in that three-day weekend. You're not even thinking about work that day. Thursday's

always, Thursday's a fucking waste. You're sitting at a desk. You're sitting in a cubicle. You're on an

assembly line somewhere like our friend David in Detroit. You're doing something interesting, yet

something you hate because you're trying to do it because you got to make money. That's the only reason you do that job.

But Thursday is a waste because you're waiting for your three-day weekend because Friday is going to be full of fucking swimming pools and movie stars and beer coosies and fucking

steaks on the grill.

And you're excited.

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