Now armed with a fully functional (but malware-riddled) laptop, your host delivers what will be his last unhinged Howard Beale tirade for a good long while, pending the arrival of our next guest from Paraguay. This time, he tackles perhaps his least favorite subject other than President Trump’s latest tweet: online dating.
All of your host's laptops are now dead. He recorded this jeremiad using a lavalier microphone plugged into a smartphone and spent the ensuing 18 hours trying to figure out how the hell to post it to this website. He hopes it delivers on some level. Your host must now return to warehouse.
In which your host, in the midst of his anthropological digging, reflects on the first hundred pages of The Golden Bough by James George Frazer, considers the role of superstition and magical thoughts in modern America (and modern American baseball), and narrates some strange regal tales from the old world.
In which your host confronts his former Serbian internet adversary (see last week's drama) and, in piecemeal fashion, actually finds some common ground with the man despite a lot of weird death threats and penis amputation fantasies that came your host's way via intermediaries as a consequence of attempting to invite a Serbian on the show.
In which your host ruminates on the purpose of pointless work, extols the virtues of manual labor, unfurls a new plan of attack, blames the United States Postal Service for sabotaging a love affair of yore, and previews (with no small amount of dread) his upcoming guest list.
In which your host reassesses his venture into the Balkans, describes (but does not perform) The Stupidest Song He Has Ever Written, casts a sneer at Francis Fukuyama and his prophesied End of History, ponders the internet hive mind and the ramifications thereof, and for the first time squeezes a proper meow from his cat on the show.
In which your totally doxxed host (Keith Petit of Omaha, Nebraska) reflects upon the strange kindness of unknown individuals he has entrusted with certain vital tasks in his life. Then he turns his thoughts toward Uruguay and Paraguay.
In which your host extends an olive branch to the Serbian(s) he offended with his (evidently trigger-worthy) podcast invitation.
In which your host recounts his gradual recovery from his butthurtness re: the criticisms re: his podcast which HAS ZERO LISTENERS and SCREENS ITS GUESTS and EVEN MAKES THEM FILL OUT A CHEEKY LITTLE FORM.