Hey, what's going on? It's Bill Burr and it's time for the Monday morning podcast for Monday, August 1st.

Oh, Jesus, 2019. What's going on? How are you? You're at work and you know what? Everybody's bumming you out today because it's August 1st and everybody's going to be telling you everybody's going to be telling you.

Oh my god, where's the summer go? I can be the fucking time and this fucking summer goes to like September 20th. It's only half old. Started 3rd week of June.

Okay, you're in the you're in the dog days of summer. It's just like the fucking baseball season except a couple weeks shorter.

All right. So all those people who go, oh my god, you cannot wear white after Labor Day. Fuck them.

Just be like it's still summer. All right, till September 20th. If all right. So fucking wipe that gloomy look off your face.

You got plenty of time left and with global warming. I mean, shit, it probably technically as far as temperature goes, temperature wise, it probably goes until October 18th.

And enjoy these days. Enjoy these extra days of summer before it's summer all the time and before summer is actually winter and summer becomes hell's fire. Sorry.

I am the god of hell's fire. Remember that fucking weird video from the 60s. You know, and everyone was freaking out the adults like you got to admit though, if any adults had a right to freak out.

It was the parents of baby boomers. Just like how much shit changed from the 1940s when they were out fighting a war, boop, a dupap, a dupap, a dupap, right?

They were like the greatest generation ever. Their parents went through the depression and all that.

And the whole time they were growing up, what did they say? Their parents are the greatest generation. They were all like, who would do the depression?

Maybe they didn't, I don't give a shit. It just works out for me. So then what the fucking the greatest generation, the greatest generation of warriors, the worst generation of parents.

And don't get me wrong. They could fight a war. They could fight a world war, but I'll tell you. Those fucking people, they must have spared the rod and spoiled the child.

Because all of a sudden the 60s come around and everybody's just like, hey man, why do I have to have my dick in my underwear, man? Why can't I run across the fields with my hairy ass, man?

And then the chicks would just say, well you can take your fucking dick out that I can have my tits flopping around as I walk down the street. Sorry, I know I'm blowing through the 60s, but this is essentially what happened.

I came in with John Kennedy and his beautiful wife, what's her name there, Mrs. Kennedy. And you know, she was a fashion plate. I tell you, she knew any, you know, if a young Michelle Obama was around, she could have told her to do a fucking arena tour.

You're wearing a dress, you look great. Get out there and sell some tickets. I'll have somebody else write the book.

You just say stuff over somebody's shoulder and haven't fucking tight.

I am so sick of super famous, super busy people acting like they wrote a book. It's just enough for you didn't write a book.

You don't have fucking time to write a book. You're too busy doing all the other shit and your meetings for your fucking vitamin water that has your face on it and fuck out of here. You sat down and wrote a book.

Like your earnest having wife sitting there with the demons in your head drinking yourself to death. Get the fuck out of here.

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