Episode 135: Crowd of Lonelys

Like everyone else, Epstein is on the brain. Zack talks his self sabotaging ways and Dean opens up about not opening up in relationships.

Ugly God – Batman


Check out the official video for “Hubris” on Spirit’s site here.

Racing to Red Lights


I got tailgated and passed by some guy on the road the other day. He was in a rush, seemed kind of pissed off and sped past me only to get stopped by a red light no more than two blocks ahead. He then proceeded to accelerate really fast off the line twice more before eventually seeing me creep up behind him at yet another red light. Each time got funnier and funnier until I realized we’re all that guy in a convertible Mustang sometimes, just racing to red lights.

We clock in on Monday and race to the Friday night red light. We set a goal to lose weight and stop working on ourselves when we get there. We binge watch the Sopranos only to have the series finale cut to black. I’m pissed. I’m sorry, I just finished it and feel as angry as convertible Mustang guy. The Sopranos debacle aside, I think people can relate to the feeling of revving up only to realize you’re going to have to brake hard because of the world around you. We may see people around us moving slower than we’d like and honk and act like a dick because we think it’s going to make them move faster, but it won’t. At the end of the day, the actions or inactions of people around you shouldn’t affect your mood, you should. We only get mad at other people when we realize that we’re the ones racing red lights.


Episode 127: Soft Bottoms

Hear comedy tips and tidbits from two non-comedians. The guys discuss how even idiots can own their own business, their first time stumbling on to pornography and the fact they’ve never really hit a “hard bottom”. Are soft bottoms holding them back?

Taylor Girls – Wedgie in My Booty


Quality Time


I’m in Ecuador right now, making it the 10th country I have visited since I started traveling at 18. I actually stopped for a few years, but when my mom died in 2016, it awoke in me the passion to make sure I do the things I want to do now- so I visited 8 of those 10 countries in just the last 3 years. My mom always talked about wanting to go to Spain but early onset Alzheimer’s disease, a sickness that locks its sufferers in hell and pushes families in trenches of cyclical grieve, had an entirely different plan. The month after she left us, in September 2016, I landed in Spain on the day of her birthday…and I cried. I cried because I felt her presence with me. I felt like she was seeing Spain through my eyes and thereby receiving her wish, but I also wasn’t sure when the next time I would feel that close to my mother again would be. I can still remember the last time I physically held her on August 18th. At the end of the trip I cried again because I realized more than ever that you cannot run away from your problems. No matter the distance between you and it, they travel with you too. I never felt that lesson as heavily as I did then, but the amount of beautiful closeness and closure I feel to and from my mama whenever I travel now is unmatched. Boarding a plane to see the vastness of the earth reminds me how small I am and yet how impactful her time here was at the same time. I want to show her how she raised her little girl to be fearless, unwavering, and adventurous. I want my mom to know that her time wasn’t determined by a horrible disease she did not choose, but by how her love, compassion, and joy will radiate in everything she touched, and will continue to touch as long as I’m here. She lives in my heart, and we live in my travels together.

Te echo de menos, mama.

You’re Free to Associate

The clouds are heady, planted feet.

Her hands are steady, full of skeet.

I’m ready for you to notice me,

drinking irresponsibly,

I think you barely see.


I’m in for the night.

No text the next day,

No “hi”, no “hey”.

Been grounded, can’t come out to play.

Hit eject on the rhyme scheme,

yo this dude is weird.

Gold plated, purse sueded, double-team The Beard.

Glory’s faded, understated, at least you made it here.


What’s a cadence?

I ain’t been straight since,

my fate was decided by a white fence.

Straddled it, no rattle, bitch.

Rates on them tits don’t tattle, bitch.

You’re a slave, bro.

You need some inspo?

Hit a rave, then abort the in vitro.

He moved on, expired like a coupon

Ex tired, been fired

Saturday’s for Jimmy Neutron.

Hi, I’m Paul,

take a Walker to the Wall,

break a John’s jaw just to watch Fall.


That was pretty offensive.

Crayola turned pensive.

That’s a broken dish, can’t rinse it.

Imma poke a fish like a stick,

with a wishlist.

The joke is rich.

Pedantic dicks supplant ethics,

with a single bid.

Can’t lie, can’t trick, I was a Pringle’s kid.

Lays tried, brain’s fried, no cannibal.

Cold jokes all Burr, no Hannibal.

The only scratch I see is from an animal.

Old folks hatch dust and bust nuts,

at the hospital.

I’m almost done here.

Fixed chain, no spokes, I got one gear.

Head over handles,

bred as vandals.

Smelly sandals and scented candles.

El fin.











save for later

I’m running out of time. No, that doesn’t have some double, deeper meaning…I’ve got 15 minutes to give the people what they want- MORE content. Or do they? How much media can people actually absorb in a day? How much should they? In a world of sensory overload, am I adding to the problem? Why do we all feel the need to “express” ourselves? Why do Dean and I think that people want to listen in on our conversations (i.e. the podcast) or read our blog posts? I grapple with this thought every time I post on here, Facebook or Instagram.Whether it’s personal or for the site, I feel a little whorish assuming that people care about what we’re up to or our thoughts on what’s going on in the world. Am I giving a little bit of my soul with every hashtag and sent emoji?  I know it’s just insecurity but at the end of the day I do think it helps. It doesn’t help in the way that’s immediate or measurable but there’s a little part of me that feels like I’m doing my part at the moment. I’ve never really felt like this before. I’ve never really felt like I know what my purpose is. I’m not saying this is it but there’s something in me that thinks, that knows this is what I’m supposed to be doing. This could be the start of a bigger picture or just me mixing the paint but regardless, it just feels right. I’m supposed to be talking it out, talking to you. Time’s up. See you tomorrow.