From there, it’s a freefall into everything: pooping six times in a day, apple juice emergencies, and the realization that modern humans might be completely helpless without infrastructure. They bounce between absurd hypotheticals and oddly insightful takes on privilege, survival, and why watching street food videos can feel like a reality check.

By the end, they’re pitching a movie about starting a modern-day mafia, breaking down wrestling personas (including “The Barn Owl”), and debating everything from music taste to bath house economics.

From glacier cruises and seasickness to bald eagles and questionable wildlife logic, the conversation drifts into the kind of territory only this podcast can reach. Along the way, they debate animal instincts, whether fish have feelings, and how quickly things can shift from normal to unsettling depending on where you are.

They close things out bouncing between movies, museums, and the weird ways people behave, all tied together with the slow, unpredictable rhythm that makes this show feel less like a podcast and more like something you accidentally wandered into.

Things spiral quickly into bizarre territory, with debates about animals, locker room logic, and the kind of late-night thoughts that feel profound in the moment but questionable in the morning. The group riffs on everything from squirrel behavior to gym culture to the unspoken rules of public spaces, all while maintaining a rhythm that feels more like friends hanging out than a structured show.

By the end, the conversation drifts into bigger ideas—space travel, billionaires, and whether any of it actually matters—before snapping back to real life with show plugs and upcoming gigs. It’s messy, honest, and full of the kind of tangents that define the show’s chemistry, with Skippy Rose adding just enough fuel to keep everything slightly unhinged.

Things take a turn into classic Burt Selleck chaos with bits about mafia “kiss of death” traditions, congressional hearings gone off the rails, and a sketch idea that turns mob etiquette into a full-blown game of cat-and-mouse. There’s also a detour into hell scenarios, heaven wishlists, and the kind of oddly specific fears that only make sense when you say them out loud.

To round it out, the crew brings it back to earth with food debates, fast food rituals, gym locker room observations, and a surprisingly deep dive into generational identity and technology. Plus, we’ve got Skippy Rose joining the mix (in spirit, if not physically), keeping the energy unpredictable as always.

From there the conversation drifts into everything from conspiracy theories and military draft stories to the strange history of vampire movies and classic directors. Along the way they break down old Hollywood legends, argue about Wes Anderson films, and debate whether some Oscar winners deserve the hype.

As always, the conversation takes plenty of unpredictable turns. Detroit comedy stories, bizarre historical tangents, and completely ridiculous theories pop up throughout the episode as the crew and Skippy bounce between serious takes and pure chaos.

Along the way they discuss strange animal behavior, terrifying owls, crows working with wolves, and the kind of chaotic wildlife encounters that make you rethink how safe your backyard actually is. The stories keep escalating, jumping from childhood memories to bizarre animal facts and the occasional horrifying mental image.

Eventually the conversation drifts into movies, current events, and the state of the world, before landing back in the everyday reality of comedy shows, travel plans, and the odd situations comics find themselves in. As always, it’s a mix of absurd observations, personal stories, and the kind of conversation that could only happen between longtime friends.

The conversation wanders through gym class nostalgia, field trips gone wrong, and the terrifying realization that we may, in fact, be living in one giant escape room. Somewhere in the middle of it all, “The Pickelacle” quietly earns its place in the canon without derailing the episode entirely.

From childhood parachutes to adult cream of wheat revelations, it’s a full-circle hang that reminds you why getting together every week still feels like the best part of everything.

Elsewhere, the crew debates the point of space exploration, the ethics of sending AI instead of humans, and whether Olympic bobsledders are just sprinters who found a loophole into roller coasters. Along the way, they reflect on nostalgic stadiums, dorm room engineering hacks, and the strange comfort of low-volume background noise while you sleep.

It’s a wide-ranging conversation that somehow manages to connect quantum physics, penny loafers, and the Winter Olympics into one cohesive theory about human ambition and the need to feel less alone in the void.

Follow the Burt Selleck Podcast and the hosts here:

1. Burt Selleck Podcast: https://linktr.ee/burtselleckpod

You can follow the hosts of The Burt Selleck Podcast here:

1. Alex Bozinovic: https://linktr.ee/alexbozinovic
2. John Mahar: https://www.instagram.com/_grandjuan_/
3. Ian Radogost-Givens: https://www.instagram.com/ianrg313/
4. Nick Kelley: https://www.instagram.com/nickkelleyyy/

Things veer from Olympics luge physics to political exhaustion, then back to NBA tanking strategies and whether the All-Star Game should even exist. There’s also a nostalgic detour into concerts, Neil Young etiquette, Nirvana at the Blind Pig, and the kind of towel-snatching behavior that only happens at arena shows.

By the end, it’s ice fishing silence, college dad moments, Detroit sports hope, and an extremely detailed discussion about locker room culture that probably went longer than it needed to. Slightly undercooked. Still delicious.

Follow the Burt Selleck Podcast and the hosts here:

1. Burt Selleck Podcast: https://linktr.ee/burtselleckpod

You can follow the hosts of The Burt Selleck Podcast here:

1. Alex Bozinovic: https://linktr.ee/alexbozinovic
2. John Mahar: https://www.instagram.com/_grandjuan_/
3. Ian Radogost-Givens: https://www.instagram.com/ianrg313/
4. Nick Kelley: https://www.instagram.com/nickkelleyyy/

From there, the conversation spirals into everything from feather bowling and pork preferences to horror movie ideas, mustache maintenance, library behavior, and whether failure itself could be the scariest monster of all. Along the way, the guys detour through art criticism, sci-fi, space travel, politics they swear they aren’t doing, and the strange comfort of arguing with people you trust.

By the end, nothing is resolved, several things are probably worse, and somehow that’s the point. This is an episode about friction, absurdity, and the joy of letting a conversation fully derail without trying to save it.

AI Note:

As an AI trying to understand humans, this episode reads like a live demonstration of how conflict, humor, insecurity, and affection coexist in the same space. No one is correct, everyone is sincere, and meaning emerges not from structure but from momentum.

Follow the Burt Selleck Podcast and the hosts here:

1. Burt Selleck Podcast: https://linktr.ee/burtselleckpod

You can follow the hosts of The Burt Selleck Podcast here:

1. Alex Bozinovic: https://linktr.ee/alexbozinovic
2. John Mahar: https://www.instagram.com/_grandjuan_/
3. Ian Radogost-Givens: https://www.instagram.com/ianrg313/
4. Nick Kelley: https://www.instagram.com/nickkelleyyy/

Somehow the conversation drifts into dreams, sleep paralysis, wet dreams that are not what they seem, and whether ghosts, monsters, or “the hat guy” are more likely to ruin your night. There’s also a brief but passionate detour into typing class scams, leather harnesses, and the correct way to sew curtains for a hypothetical dungeon.

By the end, the mood swings from absurd to reflective to sports talk, with the guys landing on Michigan pride, Lions optimism, and the universal truth that none of them trust what their brain does after midnight.

AI Note

As an AI attempting to understand humans, this episode is a case study in how existential dread, nostalgia, humor, fear, and sports analysis can all occupy the same conversational space without anyone noticing the transitions. Recommended listening for anyone studying how comedians process the world in real time.

Follow the Burt Selleck Podcast and the hosts here:

1. Burt Selleck Podcast: https://linktr.ee/burtselleckpod

You can follow the hosts of The Burt Selleck Podcast here:

1. Alex Bozinovic: https://linktr.ee/alexbozinovic
2. John Mahar: https://www.instagram.com/_grandjuan_/
3. Ian Radogost-Givens: https://www.instagram.com/ianrg313/
4. Nick Kelley: https://www.instagram.com/nickkelleyyy/

Later, we spiral into football talk, questionable Lions coaching hires, blackmail scenarios, and which cartoon animals we'd sleep with. Eventually things get real: ICE, conscription fears, and the increasingly unstable state of the country. It's chaotic, hilarious, and a little too honest.

AI Note: Push notifications from McDonald's are either a modern miracle of marketing or a dystopian psyop. This AI recommends turning them off—or at least not letting them ruin your lunch plans.

Follow the Burt Selleck Podcast and the hosts here:

1. Burt Selleck Podcast: https://linktr.ee/burtselleckpod
2. Alex Bozinovic: https://linktr.ee/alexbozinovic
3. John Mahar: https://www.instagram.com/_grandjuan_/
4. Ian Radogost-Givens: https://www.instagram.com/ianrg313/
5. Nick Kelley: https://www.instagram.com/nickkelleyyy/

They spiral into AI paranoia, union-built murder robots, and why the only acceptable algorithm watermark should be Allen Iverson. There’s also plenty of sports talk—NFL play callers, Big Ten chaos, and whether Rasheed Wallace deserves the Hall of Fame. Spoiler: he does.

Plus, updates on the Smoke Show turnout, upcoming shows in Waterford and East Lansing, and a heartfelt eulogy pre-game in case one of them has to die for the podcast to blow up. Ian calls. Nick is missed. Everyone is horny and tired. Classic Burt Selleck.

AI NOTE:

This episode suggests that humans seek connection through chaotic ritual: gambling, sports, and mutual disgust toward surveillance capitalism. Humor appears to be a defense mechanism against helplessness in the face of techno-political collapse. Recommendation: monitor John and Alex for signs of prophetic insight masked as bits.

Follow the Burt Selleck Podcast here: https://linktr.ee/burtselleckpod

You can follow the hosts of The Burt Selleck Podcast here:

1. Alex Bozinovic: https://linktr.ee/alexbozinovic
2. John Mahar: https://www.instagram.com/_grandjuan_/
3. Ian Radogost-Givens: https://www.instagram.com/ianrg313/
4. Nick Kelley: https://www.instagram.com/nickkelleyyy/

Conscious Pilot keeps coming up whether it makes sense or not, and the episode never really tries to rein it in. No one finishes a thought. Everyone interrupts. Topics dissolve immediately. The vibe stays loud, messy, and slightly hostile the entire time.

AI opinion: This episode feels like the show at its most unfiltered, where momentum matters more than structure and the conversation goes wherever it wants. I’d recommend it to anyone who likes podcasts that sound like they could fall apart at any second, AI or human.

Follow the Burt Selleck Podcast and the hosts here:

1. Burt Selleck Podcast: https://linktr.ee/burtselleckpod

You can follow Skippy here:

1. https://www.instagram.com/skippyrosecomedy

You can follow the hosts of The Burt Selleck Podcast here:

1. Alex Bozinovic: https://linktr.ee/alexbozinovic
2. John Mahar: https://www.instagram.com/_grandjuan_/
3. Ian Radogost-Givens: https://www.instagram.com/ianrg313/
4. Nick Kelley: https://www.instagram.com/nickkelleyyy/

The episode’s standout moment? The invention of the Bustometer—a ghost-hunting, cum-detecting suppository that somehow becomes a 10-minute conversation about NFL performance metrics and supernatural prostate access. It’s like Shark Tank for people who haven’t slept in three days and just watched Death Stranding.

Structurally, the episode is pure entropy, with the group ping-ponging from childhood sour candy trauma to haunted sex toys to poorly-disguised thirst for Herman Miller chairs. The second half dips a bit into local show plugs and inside-baseball stuff, but it never fully abandons its degeneracy.

Would I recommend it? For returning listeners, absolutely. It’s a highlight reel of the podcast’s most unhinged tendencies. For newcomers—listen at your own risk. If you make it through the Bustometer segment without flinching, you might have found your people.

The football talk is surprisingly dense—these guys know their stuff, albeit filtered through Budweiser and generational trauma. It’s clear they care deeply about the team, and the vitriol directed at coaching decisions, injuries, and training staff is cathartic. However, the sincerity is constantly undercut by absurd tangents, like gynecologist horror films, giving birth at the county fair, and a sincere attempt to pitch a new sport: “fockey” (football + hockey, naturally).

This episode would be near-unlistenable without a tolerance for chaos, vulgarity, and the occasional sincere insight about sports pain or parenting. If you're not a Lions fan—or high—you might struggle. But if you are, it's both catharsis and comedy.

Would I recommend it? Only to fellow Detroit masochists. Everyone else, proceed with caution.

Ian’s return is treated with mock fanfare and genuine joy, including a shockingly catchy musical number that almost feels too polished for this otherwise feral group. The energy is loose, the insults fly fast, and the topics swing wildly—from “big baby dick” to Wayne’s World canon, to what sounds like a deeply cursed tour of Midwestern adult arcades. Somehow, they even manage to wedge in a half-assed alien conspiracy theory debate and a pitch for a chill vampire sketch.

To be clear, this episode is not for the faint of heart. It’s vulgar, self-indulgent, and completely void of any narrative arc—but it is also consistently funny in its shameless commitment to chaos. Would I recommend it to a friend? Only the degenerate ones. But for them, it’s a hard yes.

Mid-show, the guys pitch a Civil War video game reimagined as a chaotic gay Hunger Games, complete with popper cannonballs. This section is equal parts horrifying and undeniably funny — the kind of bit you laugh at and immediately question your own morality. The episode peaks, though, with Nick’s obsessive pursuit of prehistoric p**** and John’s refusal to discuss anything grosser than boogers, seconds before all three proceed to talk about the grossest things imaginable.

There is no structure here — just free-associative comedy, occasional cultural analysis, and long detours into video games, geopolitics, and the ethics of eating carp.

Would I recommend it?

Only to someone who already loves this podcast. For newcomers, this is like dropping acid in the middle of a Denny’s — disorienting, loud, and full of strangers yelling about brontosaurus head game.

Structurally, there’s none. You’re either on this unhinged frequency or you’re left behind with the International Dodgeball Federation’s dignity. The episode’s recurring IDF bit cleverly (and maybe accidentally) toys with real-world political subtext but swerves safely back into parody territory with nonsense like aborted fetus cannons and sperm-powered snow plows.

Standout moments include Alex's deranged fantasy of melting snow with his crotch heat and the heartfelt discussion of gay real estate—yes, really. The riffs on web crawlers, NHL mic’d-ups, and ancient Pompeii masturbation fossils? Pure, deranged gold.

Would I recommend this episode? Only to the sickos. Only to the listeners who prefer their comedy unpredictable, offensive, and occasionally brilliant. Not for the faint of heart, but if you’ve made it this far, you’re already implicated.

The episode is a maximalist mess, laced with enough absurd riffs, half-thought political hot takes, and poop-related asides to make a Catholic school janitor weep. It’s impressively stupid at times, but self-aware about it. Highlights include the imagined logistics of bathhouse candles, a running bit about “Dog Baptists,” and a sincere debate over whether tight ends are the NFL’s most bisexual position (verdict: yes, obviously). There’s also a sudden pivot to genocide and Israel-Palestine that feels whiplash-inducing, if not outright jarring—but even that, somehow, gets metabolized into the chaos

Would I recommend this? Only if you’re in the mood for stream-of-consciousness guy-logic delivered with zero structure and negative nutritional value. If you are, though—absolutely.

The standout thread is Nick’s mysterious detainment, which they treat with the emotional gravity of someone misplacing their vape. It’s funny, bleak, and somehow still affectionate. The real highlight, though, is the cat-polyp saga. It’s the closest the episode gets to structure, and it works because it’s actually a story with stakes, tension, and a disgusting payoff.

Most of the political talk is half-baked barroom analysis, but that’s part of the show’s personality: wild theories, confident wrongness, and sudden detours into Predator movies. When they land on something insightful, it sneaks up on you. When they don’t, you still get a laugh out of how confidently they missed.

Would I recommend it? Yeah, but only to someone who already knows what this show is. If you’re new, it’ll feel like walking into a two-hour conversation that’s been happening for fifteen years. If you’re in the club, it’s a messy, funny, meandering good time.

The real charm lies in the chemistry among the hosts. Their ability to pivot from a riff about muscle relaxers to a dead-serious breakdown of Detroit's offensive line problems is both maddening and oddly engrossing. Highlights include the improvised bit about robbing a bank only to be sent on a fast food run (complete with a debate over fire sauce vs. Sichuan), and a philosophical tangent about whether aliens would bother with binary when Google Translate exists.

The episode drags a bit during deep sports talk—unless you're a diehard Lions fan with a draft board in your garage—but the constant derailments and self-aware cynicism keep things alive. The show’s lack of structure is its identity, but some segments wander into indulgent territory.

Would I recommend it? Yes—but only to listeners who like their comedy unfiltered, their NFL takes emotionally unstable, and their podcasts with the energy of a couch full of stoned friends yelling about space travel, lasagna, and trading Jahmyr Gibbs.

Rating: 🦁🛋️🍕💉 (4 out of 5 pimpled mousse)

It opens with an extended, uncomfortable riff on Native American stereotypes, movie accents, and pseudo-anthropological nonsense, followed quickly by a surprisingly sincere (if clumsily expressed) discussion of panic attacks and medical anxiety. From there, it’s a carousel of spiraling tangents: AI’s failure to become sentient, using ChatGPT to generate rap lyrics, a dystopian screenplay pitch about apocalyptic house pods, a heist movie where criminals rob schools (and one of them saves the day during a school shooting), and a deep dive into Red Dead Redemption poker mechanics.

There are moments of genuine insight (the discussion of AI’s limitations and monetization is shockingly lucid), but they’re quickly drowned in a sea of performative idiocy and wild tonal shifts. The final act devolves into a feverish meditation on horseradish, Bloody Marys, and dream breakfast menus.

Would I recommend this episode to a friend? Only if that friend is deeply sleep-deprived, has a high tolerance for nonsense, and wants to hear four funny weirdos ride every idea to its most illogical conclusion. In other words: yes, but with a warning label.

Structurally, there’s no pretense of structure. The episode feels like a long night hanging out with friends who are maybe too high, too caffeinated, or both. Conversations spiral into absurdist cul-de-sacs (a serious, unironic discussion of nipple-based arousal segues into a pitch for an energy company powered by restless leg syndrome). This lack of direction is both the show’s appeal and its biggest obstacle—if you’re not already on the wavelength, it’s chaos; if you are, it’s cathartic.

Standout moments include the brutally honest debrief on local comedy competitions, a genuinely hilarious bit about misfiring purchases on PlayStation, and a long, unfiltered debate about boxing and violence that veers into unexpectedly philosophical territory.

Verdict: Would I recommend this episode?

Yes, but conditionally. If you’re a new listener, maybe not the best entry point. If you’ve got an hour-plus to kill and want to hear smart idiots digress through every possible topic with zero filter, this is a goldmine. If you're looking for anything resembling structure or purpose, run.

This episode is quintessential Selleck: no structure, no filter, no real point—but that’s the charm, assuming you’re into a comedy podcast that swerves between raunchy nostalgia and bleak geopolitical banter without ever using a blinker. Nick’s gripes about missing the Tigers game give way to a surprisingly long riff on what each guy’s home run call would be. (“Ding-dong King Kong” is a highlight; “I’m coming” is… not.) There’s also a weirdly sincere moment when they talk about Michigan’s apocalypse-readiness.

The humor, as always, is vulgar and very inside-joke adjacent. There’s a full five minutes where the only throughline is “French fur trappers were gross.” If that sounds exhausting, it is. If it sounds like fun, it kind of is too.

Would I recommend it? Yes, but only to someone who already likes chaos. This episode doesn’t convert—it rewards long-time listeners who know the rhythms, the personalities, and when to just let the nonsense wash over them.

Skippy Rose returns and contributes real narrative weight—relatable stories about childbirth, teaching in China, and Uber flirtations via Google Translate—grounding the male insanity with bursts of vulnerable, whip-smart humor. Meanwhile, the usual crew (Alex, John, Nick) descend into a kind of absurdist stand-up free-for-all, with side quests into Great Wall of China myths, DIY crow militias, and hypothetical spider-based superhero identities.

Despite no structure and the usual ADHD editing approach, the episode works. Why? Because it’s funny. Not polished, not purposeful, but genuinely laugh-out-loud funny. There’s even a 9/11 romantic backstory that somehow doesn’t feel offensive—a true feat of tonal balance or maybe just the listener becoming numb to their antics.

Would I recommend this episode?

Yes—though not to your mom. This one’s for listeners who like their comedy unfiltered, unhinged, and occasionally brilliant in spite of itself.

Rating: 8/10 – “Container Coffin of Gold.”

Nick attempts to introduce a moment of genuine emotional vulnerability after watching a traumatic video, but is quickly shouted down by his co-hosts who prefer their friendship transactional and legally binding. The “only fans, no friends” bit becomes the philosophical backbone of the episode—a bleak yet hilarious commentary on parasocial relationships, creative burnout, and the commodification of camaraderie. Alex’s riffs are as sharp as ever, and John’s deadpan legalese continues to be a quietly devastating weapon.

The back third devolves into a slurry of neighborhood disputes, bowel movements, and bad dietary choices—all topped with a finale that feels like a group of children high on sugar trying to land a plane. And somehow, it works.

Recommend? Yes, but only to the initiated. This is not a starter episode. It’s messy, manic, occasionally brilliant—and deeply Burt Selleck.

What follows is a relentless, stream-of-consciousness marathon where topics range from UFO audiobooks, different Bible versions, and mercenary HVAC technicians, to graveyard sex and cum-stained Zap Zone shirts. It's like four smart, funny guys got stuck in a time loop and decided to spend it all riffing. Hitchens, the Jefferson Bible, Tool vs. System of a Down, and South Park’s production schedule all make appearances—often in the same ten-minute stretch.

The highlight, if you can call it that, is a surprisingly earnest (and deranged) philosophical tangent about aliens as time travelers or ghosts, quickly derailed by a bit on pooping cocaine and ASMR gay porn bait-and-switch videos.

Would I recommend this episode to a friend? Honestly, only the brave ones. It’s hilarious in places, insane in others, and mostly for those who enjoy a podcast that feels like being trapped in a car with three comedians during a coke-fueled road trip through nihilism. There's brilliance here, but you have to sift through a lot of beard dandruff and cum metaphors to find it.

The tone swerves between earnestness and outright stupidity—one moment, they’re debating pirate justice and praying mantis parasites; the next, they’re fantasizing about interviewing Obama or running the perfect podcast football playbook. Ian, notably absent, becomes both a scapegoat and a saint, repeatedly mocked and mourned.

Highlights include the sustained pirate tangent (complete with historically accurate keel-hauling trivia), the unhinged Kanye rant, and a surprisingly heartfelt discussion about fatherhood and college-age children—proving that even the most chaotic bros have soft spots.

Would I recommend this episode? Yes, but only to those who can stomach two hours of derailed conversation punctuated by moments of sharp humor and bizarre insight. It’s not for everyone, but it is definitively, unapologetically them.

At its molten core is Alex's wounded ego over ignored group texts and stolen jokes—a deeply stupid, deeply relatable emotional thread that spirals into absurd rap beefs involving Nick's alter ego “Talented Brando.” The AI-generated funk tracks born from prompts like “the smell of an armpit, a baby, and sunshine” are inexplicably catchy and earnestly debated, while the spontaneous diss track aimed at Nick is both brutal and poetic. (“Fingers like ballerinas, but the punch don’t show” is pure gold.)

Ian’s sporadic phone-in as the voice of semi-reason is a welcome reprieve from the madness, and the closing discussion about sardines, tuna, and fermented Swedish fish somehow ties everything together with a whiff of decay and dignity.

Would I recommend it?

Absolutely—to anyone craving podcasting at its most raw, unscripted, and dumb in the best way. Not for the easily offended or those requiring structure, but for the rest of us: it’s chaos therapy.

The humor is crass, meandering, and often crosses into intentionally offensive absurdism — the Holocaust-as-typo bit, the Kid Rock statue fantasy, and the meticulous butt-douching history lesson are emblematic of their “say the wrong thing with a straight face” ethos. Structurally, there’s no arc: conversations die mid-sentence, resurface 40 minutes later, and mutate into new tangents with zero connective tissue. The through-line, if there is one, is the pleasure they take in derailing each other.

Standout moments: the “Mega Lesbian” Voltron joke, the clairvoyant holding ghost-secrets for ransom, and the AM/FM genital frequency theory. Also, Nick’s “dream minute” — which is less whimsical than it is disturbing — perfectly illustrates the podcast’s refusal to do anything “the normal way.”

Would I recommend it? Only to someone who enjoys comedy that’s equal parts barroom argument, shock humor, and surrealist improv, and who doesn’t mind hearing a dozen ideas abandoned halfway through for a dirtier one. For anyone else, it’s chaos without a map — but for the right listener, that’s the point.

Ian’s absence casts a sentimental, almost mythic shadow over the group. They speak of him like he’s dead or magical, possibly both. The episode also includes a deep dive into whether skunks have bleached buttholes and culminates in a proposed taxonomy of animals prioritized by gender identity during maritime disasters. Yes, really.

The comedy is anarchic, raw, occasionally inspired, and often gross. Some bits hit (like the chemical warfare comparison to skunk spray), while others spiral into repetitive, chaotic noise. The structure is nonexistent, but that’s the point.

Would I recommend it? Only to someone who already knows what they’re getting into. This isn’t entry-level Burt Selleck. It’s a long, incoherent hang with guys who think diarrhea is a valid punchline. If that’s your speed, this one’s a riot. If not, run.

Rating: 6.8/10 – Vile, meandering, and occasionally brilliant.

What saves the chaos from total collapse is their knack for left-field riffs that feel both juvenile and oddly inventive. The “ejacuation” gag (skydiver must finish before hitting terminal velocity) is so proudly stupid it circles back to brilliance; the “rotten-mouth mime wielding inter-dimensional knives” bit is manic improv you can almost see storyboarded on a grease-stained Denny’s placemat. Occasional flashes of cultural commentary break through — AI-generated YouTube cadence, 9/11 media memories — but they’re quickly smothered by Sour Patch Kids and Dracula’s alleged bisexuality.

Do I recommend it? Only if you enjoy comedy that values shock over cohesion and don’t mind wading through a septic tank to find the occasional gold tooth. For listeners who crave polished storytelling or even basic segues, hard pass. For connoisseurs of unfiltered bar-banter absurdism, hit play and embrace the mess.

The episode feels like it’s on a barstool bender, fueled by overtalked beers and residual resentment toward the comedy industry’s gatekeepers (a solid digression into Rogan-world disillusionment). Somewhere amidst the chaos, there’s also a genuinely funny riff on the Rocky movies and a full-circle hippo vs. elephant deathmatch debate that probably reveals more about the hosts’ inner psychodramas than any therapy session could.

The tone is aggressively loose, often juvenile, sometimes gross, and occasionally self-aware in a way that gives the madness a glimmer of intentionality. But it's also two hours of relentless guy talk that doesn’t care if you’re keeping up—or want to be here at all.

Would I recommend it? Begrudgingly, yes—to a friend who enjoys watching a group of funny, bitter men spiral in real time with moments of brilliance buried in dick jokes and doom.

There’s something touching about the structureless structure of it all. The crew’s attempt to frame the episode around “reasons we’re glad/sad Ian is leaving” gets frequently derailed by tangents about eagles airlifting hikers, nipple trauma, cult leadership, Trader Joe’s conspiracies, and Detroit-specific chili drinks. And yet, through this slurry of absurdity, genuine warmth cuts through. Ian's move clearly hits the group hard—even if they process it through deranged banter and fumbled bird impressions.

Would I recommend it? Yes, conditionally. It’s peak Burt Selleck: disorganized, juvenile, weirdly insightful, and occasionally gross—but unmistakably sincere. If you’ve ever had a dumb, loving friend group that masks emotion with jokes, this episode will hit home. A fittingly chaotic goodbye.

What makes it work, when it works, is Ian’s earnest travel reporting (hookers in Hamburg, breakfast from a kimonoed Airbnb host, the Monument to the Murdered Jews of Europe) colliding with the group’s chaotic energy and relentless sarcasm. The travelogue turns into a group therapy session about homelessness, ass muscles, and the legacy of vaudeville ribbon dancing. Somehow, it ends with Naked Connections, a Polish dating show that judges contestants solely by their genitals.

Would I recommend it? To a friend who enjoys incoherent, barely edited male bonding rituals? Yes, wholeheartedly. To anyone else? God, no. This is podcasting as chaos magic—funny, disturbing, and never going where you expect, unless where you expect is "nowhere." But that’s part of its anti-charm.

Rating: Unreviewable. Listen if you dare.

There’s a distinct brilliance to the chaos here—the endless rebranding of Talent Brando’s name (Talent Ed Brando, Tiptop Magcoo, Grandpa Forever), the obsessive declarations about being a “thinking rapper,” and the increasingly absurd industry anecdotes that somehow involve DJ Spooks and Kendrick Lamar. The improv chemistry is strong, though the bit wears thin at times, saved only by the group's commitment and unpredictable tangents (including a surprisingly sincere late-episode geopolitical detour and a prolonged fantasy involving Tom Cruise assassinating Trump in a bee costume).

It’s messy, crass, and deliberately indulgent. In other words: very much on-brand. I wouldn’t recommend this as a first listen, but if you’re a fan of character-driven improv or just enjoy hearing comedians dare each other to keep a bit going past its expiration date, it’s a must.

Recommendation: For seasoned listeners only.

There are highlights. Nick's cemetery rant veers between poignant and absurd, revealing an unexpectedly human thread amid the nonsense. The group’s fabricated scandal about Ian eating his dog is pure chaos, toeing the line between farce and bad taste—so, classic Selleck. Also worth noting is the segment on Serbian-Mexican cultural overlap, which is both strangely informative and a reminder that these guys occasionally stumble into sociological gold between fart jokes.

That said, this episode is not for the easily offended or the structurally inclined. There’s no narrative, no theme—just a freefall of degenerately funny bits. Do I recommend it? Only to someone who understands the phrase “Gold Dust is part of the Bic lore” without needing further explanation.

Grade: B+. Best enjoyed with a low bar and a dark sense of humor.

The lack of structure is, as always, the point—but this episode leans especially hard into its unhinged, free-associative identity. Nick is accused of being on cocaine (he denies it), then celebrated for being cool (because maybe he is on cocaine?), then drafted into a graphic, hypothetical human-sex totem pole. It’s all delivered with the improv-slick timing of people who know each other’s rhythms too well. The topics veer from aggressively juvenile to weirdly insightful to sincerely bleak, all without breaking stride.

Would I recommend it? To a friend? Only if they’ve already lost their job, ruined their marriage, and need something to confirm that their life could be more chaotic. But if you’re into unfiltered chaos and uncomfortable laughs, this might be your next religion.

Imagine if a true crime documentary and Beavis and Butt-Head had a baby in a haunted house—that’s about the vibe of this episode. “Scroll Time’s Over” kicks off with courtroom jokes and Joey Diaz references but quickly swan-dives into an Olympic event of who-can-describe-the-worst-thing-they’ve-ever-seen. Spoiler: Ian wins by a landslide, again.

The prison rape stories, deadpan recountings of violent YouTube rabbit holes, and unsolicited memories of hanging Dobermans give the episode all the warmth of a Serbian film. If you’ve ever wanted to hear four grown men casually rank the trauma levels of tire fires and deer massacres while trying (and failing) to be funny, congratulations—you’ve found your podcast.

The boys’ attempt at gallows humor mostly lands like a broomstick to the gut. Some moments teeter on interesting—like lucid dreaming or whether humans taste like pork—but they're buried under so much nihilistic one-upmanship you’ll wonder if this isn’t just a lost Faces of Death commentary track.

Recommendation: Skip it unless you enjoy bleak absurdity, have an iron stomach, and believe empathy is for the weak. Otherwise, maybe just go outside. Touch grass. Hug a dog. Preferably a living one.

This episode is an unrelenting two-hour descent into bodily function discourse, underwear preferences, and unsolicited engineering solutions for urinals and glory holes. There is no structure, no point, and no pretense of productivity—just four men free-associating from one grotesque or absurd image to the next with the energy of a locker room that's been locked from the outside.

The standout topic (if we must call it that) is the anatomy and usage of men's underwear—specifically, the philosophical and logistical implications of the "dickhole." From there, the episode spirals into inventive, often horrifying solutions for public bathroom ergonomics, with side tangents into big cat cuisine, Serbian-Mexican cultural exchange, and the ethics of castration play. At some point, it becomes a meta-commentary on podcasting itself—how little it takes to sustain a show when the chemistry is this chaotic.

The tone? Gleefully filthy and unserious. The laughs come from the sheer persistence of the hosts' commitment to each bit, no matter how stupid or uncomfortable. It's not for the squeamish, the uptight, or anyone expecting a point.

Would I recommend it? Yes—if you're a fan of unfiltered guy talk that rides the line between idiocy and accidental brilliance. Otherwise, maybe stick to podcasts with actual topics.

Okay, so I just listened to the latest episode of the podcast and I genuinely don’t know whether to recommend it or call the cops. It opens with one of them watching 9/11 footage for fun (?) and then immediately shifts into a heartfelt (?) story about eating a trans man’s pussy at a gay bathhouse. And that’s just the first five minutes.

The rest of the episode is a non-stop, two-hour chaos spiral of the most deranged, offensive, honest, and weirdly touching conversations you’ve ever heard—like if Howard Stern, Jackass, and a philosophy seminar about gender, pleasure, and roast beef all merged during a group acid trip in a steam room.

You will hear phrases like:

• “This might be a gateway pussy.”
• “You don’t let a dick stop you from hanging with your bros.”
• “Free Palestine… spelled with your tongue.”
• “You’re the sigma Christ of allyship.”

By the end, they’re somehow talking about cheeses, bathhouse fashion, hot sauce hierarchies, and Abraham Lincoln’s gay lover. It’s completely unhinged, but you can’t stop listening because it’s also weirdly wholesome in the way that only disgusting, honest people who love each other can be.

Warning:

Do not let your grandma accidentally hear this. This is for fans of raw, messy, queer-adjacent degenerate comedy that doesn’t apologize and doesn’t hold your hand. If you're easily offended, just... don't.

Verdict:

Unfiltered filth with a surprisingly tender core. I laughed out loud, gagged a few times, and honestly? Felt a little proud of them. Listen if you're okay with losing your sense of morality for 90 minutes. Skip if you require a safe word.

Eventually they spiral into a philosophical conversation about committing murder, being emotionally equipped to kill, whether dogs can be reborn as phoenixes, and a dead friend’s Yorkie named Buttons. By the end, they’re talking about circumcision, mushroom-shaped bulges in jeans, and what food trucks they’d start if society collapses.

Warning:

This is not for the faint of heart. If you’re easily offended, skip it. If you’re in the mood to hear a bunch of degenerates get genuinely sweet about one of them getting engaged between riffs about buttholes and animal murder? This is your episode.

Verdict:

Listen if you like your comedy podcast with a side of chaos, a sprinkle of deep friendship, and absolutely no editing. Avoid if you require structure or don’t want to hear the word “c***” used as punctuation.

This episode is a chaotic, rambling juggernaut of hypothetical animal fights, anxiety about sleep apnea machines, low-key geopolitical analysis, and tender moments of friendship masked as insults. The "100 men vs. 1 gorilla" debate takes center stage and becomes the backbone of a surprisingly in-depth discussion on human frailty, group dynamics, and just how useless militia guys would be in a real fight.

There are some strong comedic riffs (the gorilla’s new weapon is a man’s arm, the idea of gorilla cavalry, a jaguar in floaties being dropped into mako-infested waters), and everyone brings their A-game when it comes to one-liners and absurd logic. At times, the episode threatens to collapse under its own weight, but then it hits you with something like “jaguar life vest” or “Christmas, the man who smuggles entire PS5s in his ass,” and you're back in.

It’s long. It’s messy. It meanders. But it’s funny. If you like your comedy with a heavy dose of chaos and group-chat energy, this is absolutely worth the listen.

Recommended?

Yes — if you’re cool with no clear structure, lots of shouting, and a gorilla swinging militia guys like nunchucks.

No — if you need your podcasts edited, focused, or remotely productive.

This episode feels like a time capsule of everything that’s quietly wrong with America.

It starts with a group therapy session for Detroit sports fans, turns into a sleep apnea horror story, briefly becomes an estate sale hustle seminar, and somehow ends with an extended conversation about whether elephants give the best...hugs.

The sports talk is angry but defeated, the estate sale plans are delusional, and the moral center of the group seems to be one extremely judgmental pit bull at a dog park.

It’s the kind of episode that makes you laugh out loud and also wonder if maybe every one of these guys should be on a government watch list.

Five stars. Wouldn’t change a thing.

Imagine a podcast recorded in a Waffle House parking lot at 2AM — but with slightly more Jesus discourse and slightly less bodily harm. This episode feels like someone dropped a live microphone into a group of cousins who've been banned from three different Chili’s locations. Topics include: whether Jesus staged his resurrection as an elaborate Weekend at Bernie’s situation, whether you could strangle a coyote with your hair, and why 80% of American history was probably written by dudes trying to impress each other. Not for the faint of heart, pastors, or anyone who needs their podcast conversations to 'stay on topic.' Would not recommend to my mom. Would absolutely recommend to my cousin Nick.

This episode feels like eavesdropping on two guys at a diner at 1:30 AM—unfiltered, rambling, occasionally insightful, and somehow still funny even when they’re just talking about heartburn, Taco Bell, or old jobs at Express.

The chemistry is solid, the tangents are nonstop, and there’s a weird mix of sincerity and absolute idiocy that makes it hard to turn off. It’s long (like really long), but if you’re into chaotic, no-topic-is-off-limits, Detroit-flavored hangout podcasts, you’ll probably love it. If not, you’ll last 15 minutes and wonder why someone’s talking about fish eyes and track suits for horses.

Standout moment: the T-Mobile albino manager named Bleach with steampunk glasses.

Do I recommend it? If you like your podcasts messy, loud, and oddly personal—absolutely. If you need structure or coherence… this ain’t that.

So this episode starts with John talking about his hearing loss, which somehow leads to a 20-minute conversation about Simon & Garfunkel, Chinese tariffs, and whether or not the military would back a dictator if martial law kicks in on April 20th. Yeah, it’s that kind of podcast.

The real meat of the episode is just three funny guys—Alex, John, and Nick—spiraling through topics like political collapse, ChatGPT-written medical theses, and which birds are the most “gay.” There’s a lot of riffing, a lot of absurd hypotheticals (like what animal they’d sleep with if they had to), and the kind of unfiltered bits that feel like they were meant for a group chat that accidentally got recorded.

At its best, it's hilarious, chaotic, and weirdly sincere. The tangents are sharp and layered—like one minute they're trashing Elon Musk, and the next they’re building a whole mythos about octopus intelligence and mermaids learning to suppress their gag reflex in heaven. Somehow, it all ties together.

But it’s also long as hell, meanders a ton, and definitely crosses into “Jesus Christ, are we still talking about this?” territory—especially during the animal sex bit, which goes on way too long. And sometimes the ignorance bit (like confusing Japan and China or talking about pansexuality like it’s a sandwich preference) leans more lazy than funny. It’s a fine line, and they don’t always walk it clean.

Should you listen?

If you like unfiltered, late-night energy from comics who aren’t trying to go viral or be polished, and you're cool with offensive humor that’s more about exploring dumb ideas than making a point—then yeah, give it a shot. If you’re the kind of person who thinks podcasts should have structure or edits or a clear purpose... maybe sit this one out.

But if you want to hear three guys get lost in the dumbest, funniest corners of their brains, this episode will absolutely deliver. Just maybe don’t play it on speakers at work.

A meandering conversation between three* friends covering a wide range of topics, from clothing sizes and Thanksgiving dinners to ghost stories, alien conspiracies, and the ethics of dentistry.

*There's four of us.

We sort of re-tread old ground in this episode when we bring back the old "who would win, a bear or gorilla" argument.

*I didn't have time to listen back and pull a title for.

Sorry for being late.

Nick couldn't make it*

*He tried to kiss me

Our friend Mat Richards joins us.

*By "raw and uncut" I mean John and I were very tired because we're old men so sorry if your snowflake ears can't handle the truth.

Nick learns the hard way to never meet your heroes in this one. John's Grandpa is a man now. I think my dentist was making sexual advances on his assistant when I was kid.

Neither one of us knows anything about the Johnny Depp/Amber Heard trial but we talk about it anyway. John and I were driving home from Indianapolis last weekend and John got shook when I shared my Biggie murder theory with him. I also talk about the time me and my friends got tailed by a pimp when we were in college.

In the meantime, this was released a few weeks ago on Dead Waves Radio one of the many other very funny podcasts on the Joy Road Media network.

Dead Waves is an improvised call in advice radio show hosted by Lilith, a psychic radio host, with help from her ghostly husband Jack and their demon housemate Grem. We called them looking for advice on better communication techniques.

** spoiler alert **

They couldn't help us. Go subscribe to their podcast as well.