Hey, what's going on? It's Bill Burn. It's the Monday morning podcast from May 3rd, 2015. What's going on? How's it going? How fucking I?

I'm fucking wiped out. The tour is over. The tour is over. Michael Corleone, Godfather Part 2, over. The summer wind, it came blowing in from across that sea.

I feel like right now because it's over in Lingadaya to touch your hair and mother fucking walk with me. All summer long, buddhup, we sang a song, buddhup, and then we did some other shit by doobah da-ba-gy-bubbub.

Old Freckles is going back to his fucking house. His fucking house with the leaky roof that he had to repair, bobbah-bubbub-id-ibubbub. Those fucking cunts, those contract in cunts.

Oh, Jesus, I still have one more bill with them. There goes on and on. So call Adam Corola. He'll kick their ass. But then you'll look like a sap on TV. But e-bubbub, because you're the douchebag that had to call Adam Corola because you're not big enough of a man to tell the contract to go fuck himself.

Jesus Christ. Anyways, I'm fucking wiped out. I don't know what you want from me this week, but this is the best it's going to get. All right, this is going to be me just in the next fucking relaxed.

I am right now. I am in, I don't even know where I am. I think I'm in Columbia, Indiana. I know what you're thinking. Bill, what the fuck are you doing there? That wasn't on the tour. That wasn't on your southern tour.

You know, southern tour, you know, Savannah, Georgia, Knoxville, Tennessee, Chad, New, Tennessee, Memphis, Tennessee, free, Fort, Louisiana, New Orleans, Louisiana, Hansville, Alabama, Jackson, Mississippi, Mobile, Alabama, Spana, not in Chad, New, Tennessee, up the Lexington, Kentucky, over to Evansville, Indiana.

There was nothing on there that said that you were going to Columbus, Indiana. Well, I mean, I ended up here because yesterday I went to the Kentucky Derby.

Me, Paul Verzi, Jason Lawhead and his dad, the Hall of Fame basketball coach, Jim Lawhead. We all went to the game, the game went to the Derby, what a fucking great time. I highly suggest going there, dressing like a jackass, like everybody does.

Big stupid hats, bow ties, the women there. Good Lord. There's some fucking fillies over there. Beautiful women, beautiful women. I'll tell you, the fucking women, the fucking ladies, they were crushing it right up until our early 50s. I'm telling you.

Some fucking decades, decades of fucking Derby winners, winners walking around the fucking, the grandstand area. We had great seats and right at the little bit past the finish line. We just had the best time.

You know what was fucked up was they sold, I don't know how to get into this man. They were selling like standing room only seats. All right.

We paid through the fucking nose to sit in a box, right? Like we donated to a presidential campaign. We were sitting right at the goddamn finish line, little past it, whatever. Don't bring my balls. Come on. You can see the horses.

Where we were at, you could actually see them start of the race, ran right by us. Then they went around the first turn and then they kind of disappeared behind some of these corporate tents in the sea of fucking sunburned humanity.

That was standing, just standing on the inside grass, which I don't know why you would do that. You know what I mean? I mean, why wouldn't you stay at home and just watch it on TV and not sit there like a bunch of fucking refugees in a tent city that had no tent for you?

You might as well have watched that watch a police horse gallop by after a crackhead underneath the fucking overpass as far as I'm concerned. All right. Infield seats are for fucking animals.

All right. Unless you young, you don't have any fucking money. All right. You have a television. It's on TV for fucking free. Why are you going to stand there?

Although I would do it. I do it in NASCAR race. I do that in a second. I'd be on the infield. Because first of all, what I like about being on the infield is the fucking inertia when those fucking cars wipe out usually takes them to the outside wall.

And I know sometimes they're banging off the outside wall and they go to the inside, but at least they hit the wall and they start to slow down.

You know what I mean? And you know, every once in a while a tire flies off and somebody loses a head or two, but that's the price you pay for getting to sit on your fucking cooler in the middle of the goddamn track.

I actually had one of the best times I ever had. I went to the Indy 500 and like 1995 when most of you were like eight years old.

...