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 a cookie monster.

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

I got a bunch of the clocks.

Hey, what's happening in my Schmidt 40-year-old-old-boy podcast?

Folks, it turns out it's a lot harder to change who you are, 50 years into your life.

You know, you wish you could, you think you could.

Instead, you start going the other way.

You start just sliding down the hill. Now, it's not going to be one of those shows where I sit here and I detail all of the things wrong with me,

because, oh my Christ, that would be a long show. You think I've done long shows in the past?

If I start detailing all the things that are wrong with me, not that you don't already know,

not that you don't already have a checklist, not that you don't already have a 40-year-old boy bingo card where you're just waiting for the free space to get filled.

Although I guess the free space is already filled because it's a free space.

Look, I'm not fucking old enough to know the goddamn rules of bingo just yet.

So back the fuck off.

Don't yell at me about my non-bingo knowledge.

Or my lack of bingo knowledge.

Or my bingo lack of knowledge.

Or my knowledge of bingo or my knowledge of bingo lacking let's spin words

around and have fun um there's a chance i might need a boss or a handler there's a chance

i may need somebody who uh who can who can rope me into doing things i'm i'm bad i'm nationwide

well that's what zizi top would say but i'm bad i'm bad you know it chamon that's what Zizi Top would say, but I'm bad. I'm bad. You know it. Shaman

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