I'm coming for all of you.

For all of you.

Right now there's a 15-year-old sophomore in high school who has no idea they're studying nursing

just so they can wake my ass in 17 years i'm 50 and single that's a fantastic combination

i'm going to spend my golden years dating a handful of spit and a jug of astroglyde

hey what's happened at mike smith 40-year-old boy podcast? Is there a weird echo? Is there

something you're hearing that you don't usually hear? Are there things happening in your ears

right now with you're plugged into your iPod vagina that you can't explain? Am I ethereal? Am I

floating? Am I in from one ear to the other? Am I going back and forth? Am I in the tape deck standing to the left on the eject like our friend

L.O. Cool J would do? Probably. Maybe. Who knows? There's a reason why my voice sounds so weird, because

look, when I come to you folks, and I'm in different places all the time, as you know, for a

couple of years there, I didn't give a fuck where I was when I recorded the show. I recorded one show at the bottom of a bog. Did you know that? I was literally in the bottom of a bog. I had a fucking mask on. I had a fucking air pipe in my mouth. And all that it was I hummed,

but for some reason because I'm so fucking good at this, I hummed and the air burst out into

bubbles and it rose to the top. And I had miced the top of a bog. There's fucking ducks and loons.

You ever try to get a loon out of your fucking microphone cord?

That's fucking difficult as hell, especially when you're trying to cut a podcast.

I'm at the fucking bottom of a bog trying to cut a thing

and all a sudden I hear a fucking disturbance.

I float to the top.

There's a goddamn loon trying to hang himself in my motherfucking microphone cord. Fuck you, Loon. Get the fuck off, man.

And then the Loon is like, hey, man, I fucking live here.

Like, that's my problem.

...