The following podcast is a deer media production.

Bonsoir!

I was supposed to have missed the sweet full transparency, but we cancelled last minute because

homey don't play that game. I listened. I was pretty excited to have this guest on. I'm not going

to blow her spot up. It probably wasn't her fault. It was probably her team's fault.

Choke on a cock. But here's the deal. If you change the time, give me a hard out with a 30 minute

time cap, refuse to be on camera, need a full one page document of topics that will be discussed,

and then also want to leverage my platform to promote your social campaign. I'm also doing

separately. Nobody puts baby bitch in a corner. It's a wrap. I could do this shit on my own.

I've been doing it for seven fucking years. Bye-bye! So here we are. Yet again. Another week.

Me, myself and I. Here's a fun story. Andrew and I moved into our house last night.

I slept all of 36 minutes, which was why I was kind of excited to have a guest because I didn't

want to do the heavy lifting this week because I am, I have an eye twitch. That is just, it won't stop.

I've been pressing it down cold compress. I mean, I am like twitching fucking McGee over here.

And how do I say this? I was a little bit afraid of the Polter Guy situation moving into this new

house. This is also something that I'm going to regret saying publicly. It's it's big and it's

empty. And Andrew sleeps like he's on horse tranquilizers. And if shit was to go down,

mind you, I've got more hidden cameras in this joint than the fucking white house apparently.

But I feel like if if someone was going to intrude or break in, that would be on me to handle.

I mean, I couldn't get that mother fucker up with a machete and a chain saw. And I mean,

every time the wind blew, I was like, so I was a little, a little frazzled last night. We had an

arsonist, an archerist, an anarchist. I don't know who's the, who's the person that comes and looks

...