Monday Morning Podcast - Thursday Afternoon Monday Morning Podcast 1-2-20

Episode Date: January 3, 2020

Bill rambles about the Rose Bowl, eating like trash, and potty training books.

Hey, what's going on? It's Bill Byrne. It's time for the Monday, Thursday afternoon, just before Friday, Monday morning podcast, and I'm just checking in on you. Happy New Year's, everybody. Happy New Decade. You know, a lot of great things happened to your last decade. All right, maybe some bad things when it's behind you.

You're now moving on. You're moving on to a new decade, you know? You got some new resolutions. You take a long, hard look at yourself, you know, as you got in your head a little bit. Maybe if you had an edible or something, you were sitting at a family table, and you're just looking at everybody the way they eat, you know, and how much resentment you have for them. And then at some point, you know, your little inner fucking pot cookie was like, hey, man,

what about you, man? Maybe it's not that, man, right? You got your fucking head, and you decided I am going to make changes for the better. I've decided the same thing, all right? And one of them is I'm not going to flip out every time, well, I'm going to try not to, every time my computer, you know, not going to call it a name, gives me these little update windows. It's not installed when it just gives me the option of details or install.

Restart now, try in an hour, try tonight. Remind me tomorrow. Why don't you try tonight? All right? Give me, give me, give that. No, why do I have to close that again? I'm not going to lose my temper. See this?

This is me just, you know, this is just me clicking here. There's political prisoners around the world right now and holding cells. This is not something worth flipping out. There I did it. But now, when you go to make a change in yourself, there's going to be some pain, like there's going to be some suffering. Like right now, what I just did was tremendous, you know, improvement in my own behavior with my computer, okay?

But there's a price to pay. And the price to pay is you, the listener, heard nothing funny during that entire thing. I just handled it. My emotions didn't get out of control. And you're still sitting there waiting to laugh for the first time during this podcast. What I need from you guys is I need you guys to ride this out while I become a better person, while simultaneously becoming less funny, okay? There's that.

All right. Let's get on with it. It is a new year. All right. I always make a bunch of resolutions. I'm finally going to become fluent in French. I picked that back up again now that I've been, I got that test behind me. I'm going to get back in great shape, you know?

I like keeping myself in great shape because I'm vain as hell. And then also when I get acting work or whatever, you know, I only have like seven, eight pounds I have to lose, you know? These actors that bitch moment complain about having to be in shape to be in a movie, I just don't fucking understand it. You know what I mean? I'm like, why don't you put your fucking zillions of dollars up? Why don't you put that on the crap table and then watch all the actors show up with fucking

love handles hanging out of your fucking wear. All right? You want to be a fat fuck? Go drive a truck. You want to be in the movies, get a gym membership, you know, go online, learn how to fucking read. That's basically it. You know, if you're eating right, then you know, you only have something. But I will tell you this though.

I don't give a fuck what shape you're in and how much they measured you, whatever clothes they give you from wardrobe, never fit. And they never fit in, in the bad way. They're always too fucking small. I swear to God, the last acting gig I did, I was like dropping weight doing it and every day the clothes just, it's like, are you sticking these in a fucking dryer? I'm telling you, they do it on purpose. They make sure that no matter what size you are, your pants don't quite fucking fit, which

makes you not go to craft service and become a fucking pig. And I get it. I get it. I'm not saying that trading is fucking hell, but you know, it's a mind game. So you're like, all right, I get it. Okay. I'll keep eating the salads. All right.

But then you don't let it beat you. Okay. You don't eat the cake and then you have to go throw up behind the dumpster. All right. And I love when people start doing that. They start throwing up behind a dumpster and then it becomes, it becomes somebody else's fault. You know, Madison Avenue, the Kardashians, whatever the fuck it is, they end up blaming

somebody else. All right. And that's just not what it is. You ate that cookie, man. Kardashians didn't make it. Ah, what the fuck am I saying? All right. So anyway, I'm, you know, I just was downstairs that made some lentil burgers.

I went to the Rose Bowl yesterday and I actually, I didn't feel that bad at the end of it. The new fucking sober me. I mean, I ate like a goddamn pig, but I just don't have, you know, a gallon of booze in me at the end of the day. It was a great, great fucking game. I actually believe it or not, I left at halftime, which is something I did last year because I had that tour coming up, you know, in Europe. I had a long run in Europe, but I got a wife and kid and now I got away.

I still have a wife and kid and it's just like it's New Year's Day. I leave at the crack of dawn or whatever. So that's next year's a playoff. So I'll stay for the home game, but the year's when it's not a playoff. I'm not staying until the fucking end. You know, I get home at like, you know, five o'clock or something. It's not bad. I get home, you know, my kid's been up for like an hour and, you know, my wife's been

watching her all day. I got, I got to be a good guy here. So, and I actually loved it. I went out, you know, we listened to the fucking game. I went back out to the, uh, to our, our, our tailgate. I smoked a cigar, you know, with everybody else just fucking hanging out Bartnick put on some fucking black Sabbath. What's that one that starts with like the bass solo?

Wow. Wow. Wow. I'm doing all that. And he just started fucking head bang and fucking mime and the bass solo with the cigar in his mouth and a drink in the other hand. And we would just fucking die and laugh and, um, but we had a great one, man. We had a great one.

We brought the, uh, the game changer. We brought the flat top grill and the guy right next to us also had a flat top grill. And I took a picture of it. I was, uh, I was going to send it to lawhead telling him that there's parody in the league now. Um, cause I believe he was the one that called it the game. He was the one that named it the game changer. Um, lawhead definitely missed.

He's a married man living outside the city. Um, so he doesn't make the journey up anymore, but we're hoping next year's a playoff. Maybe he'll come up. Um, but anyways, we, uh, I'm trying to think there was just like, I don't know what the fuck happened. Like the place where we were, there was like nobody there. And then all of a sudden it was just like, it was like the hottest nightclub and everyone was standing outside trying to get in.

It was fucking nuts. I don't know what happened. I just feel like there was three tailgates of college kids and they were just like, everybody just fucking find a place to park. I got the grill meet me here. And there was like, there was like no fucking place to stand. Fortunately it created this perimeter with our chairs, but it got more and more obnoxious. The more packed in people were, and there was this check that came up to us with the

most fucked up name ever. So I'm not going to say the name. I swear to God, I didn't think it was a real name. Um, but she came up to us and I don't like God bless her. I don't know how she hasn't ended up in a trunk. The way she came up and I was like, this has to be an act. She's fucking with us. She was so goddamn flaky.

This Wisconsin fan and it was like, we were just watching her going from tailgate to tailgate and people started like trying to introduce them to people in other tailgates. It was like, what about Bob like trying to get rid of her? I didn't even know where the fuck tailgate she, I just think she was just really open and friendly, which is just weird in a major city. She must have lived in the middle of nowhere in Wisconsin, but it was fucking weird as shit. And we just kept going, yeah, okay, okay, great.

All right. All right. She fucking left, came back again. I don't know what happened. Then finally like a third time she came back and she had a Miller genuine draft and she goes, can I trade this for one of your Miller highlights? Like that's a fucking even exchange. So I said to her, I go, what are we the Minnesota Vikings trying to make the Herschel Walker

trade of beers here? And she's like, what? And I go, it's a reference from 30 years ago, sorry. So she comes over and then Bartnick out of nowhere, classic him just walks up with a Miller high life and just hands it to her and he just starts waving going, okay, bye-bye. He kept saying bye-bye like she was a little girl. And she goes, no, I want to give them a genuine, no, keep them both. Just have a nice day.

All right. Okay. Bye-bye. All right. There you go. And he was like subtly turning her around to send her back. All right. Happy new year.

Bye-bye. He just kept going. Bye-bye. I couldn't quite hear all of it, but we had two people at our tailgate that normally don't go and they were like fucking crying, laughing. And so I just started watching them how hard they were. I mean, I've been to enough of these to know that whatever the fuck he's saying is fucking hilarious.

It's just classic Bartnick. We're all thinking like, how do we get rid of her? And he just, you can have both beers and bye-bye. It's over. And Joe came back. He was so proud of himself. He goes, I was nice. I was nice.

He goes, I was progressive. There was nothing, no hostility. And he was, he was a total gentleman. He's like, okay, thank you. Bye-bye. He was talking to her like he was closing up a store. It reminded me of the time at my bachelor party. We were drinking in this bar and there was this fucking awful band playing and they just

wouldn't stop. And it was really ruining our hang. And Joe, you know, he's a fucking big guy and he was wearing a blazer, so he just looks like a bouncer. So he goes, hang on a second. And he just walked up like with a real deliberate walk. It was a great piece of acting. And he walked up right towards like where we were sitting was like two steps up.

So he was head and shoulders above the crowd. He walked right to the front in such a manner that the lead singer was talking between songs and Joe just walked up and caught this guy's eye. And then he did the wrap it up sign and then just didn't a, like the singer had this like what the fuck look on his face and Joe just did an abrupt about face. And as he was walking back, the singer is talking into the mic, going, whoa, okay. I thought we had like another half hour to play. I guess we're getting the sign to wrap it up and we were fucking, we were fucking dying

laughing, thinking he was actually going to pull it off. But then the bartender is like, no, no, no, no, no, keep playing, keep playing. It almost fucking worked. So I don't know, just took me back to that again, but we just had a great time. Great food, throwing the fucking ball around. There was a couple like, you know, eight, nine year old kids out there that were just all about. There was one kid who was like fucking all he wanted to play defense.

He was trying to knock down the balls we were throwing it to each other and had a great arm. And then there was this check out there. We had a fucking cannon, a weird throwing motion, but it was a file. I think she was a lefty too. It was a fucking cannon. Bartender came down the hill. He was like, guys, check out there with a fucking guy turn around and I see this girl

pick up the ball, like all goofy and this guy takes off and she just fucking unloaded. You ever see so many plays hoop and they have like a weird like motion, but somehow it goes in. It was like that. And then it got really crowded. And then there was of course the former athlete dad still slinging it when there's a bunch of people standing around holding food and he hit somebody's car and he ducked away and they had like a real like the whole family over there.

It just had a real douchey. I don't know. There was part of it that I respected. They were all type A. They were all super competitive and they were all just reaching for the next level, which is a great thing to be, but it's all how you apply it. And that wasn't the moment to do it. They were all competing with each other of how foolishly they could throw this fucking ball around people's like the guy next to us had this beautiful.

Kind of Ford Raptor that he had in like this military green wrap that was incredible and it fucking landed right on the hood of his car and I was amazed at how well he handled that. I mean, maybe because they're from Wisconsin and everything, but when the guy threw it and hit the truck, I turned around and looked at him and give him a dirty look and he ducked out of the way, you know, acting like he was being all cute and shit. And like, I think he was like my age, he had like all fucking silver hair and shit. So I don't know, there's always one douche like that, but it's a new day.

So they don't get a talking to, they just get to make like a cutesy fucking face. But anyways, then we ended up heading in and we got into the fucking Rose Bowl. I made sure I smoked my cigar soon enough. We got in and we actually got to see the bands play in the beginning. We got to see the stealth bomber go over. Oh my God, and the lady next to us was fucking hilarious. She was so psyched. It was her first Rose Bowl.

And she goes, and when the thing went over, she goes, listen to that, it's so quiet. Sneak up on them Russians or something crazy like that. So I'm like, oh my God, this chick is fucking hilarious. And then like, when they went to sing the Star Spangled Banner, she was like one of those people that almost had a good voice. But like, you know, in her small town, she had like the best voice. So she was just belting it out. I'm like, all right, she's fucking going for it.

And you know, they have these stupid fucking cards you're supposed to hang up when the play, you know, the plane flies here, do this when it gets on the other side, flip it like that. It's like, hey, I don't fucking work here, not doing it. You know, I'm an asshole, so I didn't fucking do it. And so the after the plane flew over there, they were singing like the national and she sang the fucking national anthem. She's belting it out. And when she got to the second verse, she forgot the fucking words and Bartnick was in

front of me and I was like, you know, just whispering his ear going, she forgot the words, man, in Bartnick's shoulders, we're going, we were fucking crying, laughing. But she ended up being, you know, really cool or whatever. So we watched the first half and, you know, it was a great game. And I usually don't leave games early, but like, I don't know, I'm just, I'm fucking old now. I'm old and I got a kid at home. So I did it. You guys might give me shit about it.

I'm going to hang for the whole game next year because I got the, I got the, it's a playoff next year, but I think next year I'm actually going to get like the flat screen. I'm going to go in for the half, come out and watch the second half and, and just sit there and smoke a fucking cigar because I gotta admit it was fucking great. It's really great. And I kind of talked to the other guys and they were, and they were going like, dude, I've been lobbying to do this since year three. And it's, I kind of get it because the tailgate is just so much fucking fun.

It was like the perfect weather. You're sitting on the golf course and all of that shit. And I don't know, that's the part you don't want. I always find myself when I go into the game, like as much as I'm excited that the game is happening, I'm like, oh my God, that incredible tailgate. I have to wait again for an entire fucking year. Um, all right, I think I babbled enough about that shit, but, uh, congratulations to the Oregon Ducks and Wisconsin Badgers.

What the fuck do they have to do to win a goddamn Rose Bowl? I guess not fumble it away. Um, I saw a bunch of people wearing these, uh, Rose Bowl champion 1994, which I'm assuming that's the last time that they've won. But I'll tell you, those guys have lost it four times since I've been going in, uh, 2009. Let's, let's look it up here. Oh, by the way, your Boston Bruins are playing the Columbus Blue Jackets today. Um, your 24, seven and 10 Boston Bruins, um, who have continued to win without

Charlie McAvoy and, uh, Tori Krug, Kragey's out. But I think we're going to, I don't know, what's Columbus, 18, 14 and eight. We shall see. All right, Rose Bowl winners, 28 to seven fucking heartbreaker. All right, Rose Bowl winners. Where is it? Where is it? Just give me the fucking list.

All right. I don't think we need to go back to 1902. Let's just go back to the last time Wisconsin won it. All right. These are the games I went to. USC beat Penn State, Oregon, uh, lost to Ohio State, TCU, come on frogs. Uh, they beat Wisconsin, then Oregon beat Wisconsin, then Stanford beat Wisconsin. And then Michigan beat Stanford.

That was a fucking great game. Uh, Florida State, Oregon, that was a great game. Watching, uh, Jameson Winston, it was at Marcus Mariota. I think in that game, that was a great one. Uh, that was for the playoffs. Uh, Stanford, Iowa, that was a great game, but I didn't like Stanford's band. They kind of, they played, uh, you don't have to be lonely at farmersonly.com. I just thought that was really, I thought that was a low blow.

They played that for the Iowa fans. I thought that there was a fucking low blow. Then USC Penn State again, 52, 49. That was a fucking insane game. Um, Oklahoma, Georgia, I believe that was a playoff, right? 54, 48, and these all just run together. And then last year, Ohio State, Washington, that was the one I had to leave early because I had the fucking, I had the Europe tour starting the next day.

And then Oregon beat Wisconsin. Um, wow, dude, I don't even remember half of these fucking games. They all just run together. All right, let's see what his last time fucking with Wisconsin. 1994, Wisconsin beat UCLA. And wait a minute, they won in 99. That's weird. I saw like three people wearing that 1994 champion.

They won 1999. They beat UCLA. Then they beat Stanford in 2000. Look at Wisconsin. All right. So that's the last time they won. They won in 2000. Just out of curiosity, when was the last time fucking UCLA was even in it?

UCLA, this is literally their home fucking goddamn stadium has not been in the Rose Bowl since 1999. And they lost then. They lost to Wisconsin again in 94. When was the last time UCLA won the fucking Rose Rose Bowl? The fuck out of you. I used to win it all the time when I was a kid. They didn't win with Troy Aikman in the 80s.

They must have last Rose Bowl win UCLA. List of UCLA Bruins Bowl games. Cactus Bowl. This is where they've been in this century. OK, they did the Rose Bowl. I think 86 might have been the last time they won it. What the fuck? Jesus Christ, I really like that program too, man.

I like that team, man. Anyway, the fuck am I? I don't have any reads. I'm redoing this podcast a little bit later, but I've been pretty good. I started fucking working out again. My shoulders feeling good. Been doing that for like the last week. And then today I added some cardio.

I don't want to join a gym because I got like a I got too much fucking work this month and just be a waste. So I'm going to wait towards the end of the month. Plus the beginning of the year, that's when they just all the fucking jerk offs are just sweating all over these fucking ellipticals like they're going to do it for the whole year. And they're not. So you got to wait till like February. That's when you join the gym.

You join in February, you got when you joined the fucking thing. So I just did a fucking hike around the goddamn neighborhood. That's all the fuck I did. Anyway, hey, here's a question for you. Since I started working out again, I was like, am I really just going to listen to fucking AC DC, Led Zeppelin, Judas Priest, Iron Maiden for the rest of my fucking life? I got to fucking expand. Let me let me scroll through.

Some of the shit I've downloaded all over the years and probably didn't give enough of a chances. You ever just come across an album that you downloaded and you listen to it once and it didn't grab you. You just didn't give it enough of a chance. And then you go back five years later and you're like, this fucking album is unbelievable. I did that with a band called Angels and Airwaves. I think the guys tombed along from Blink 182.

That fucking album is incredible. The one from 2014. The disease might be my favorite one on that one, but just killer fucking band. I don't know. I just I absolutely loved it. And now I've been going out every other day. I go out to my garage, the old man with his getting shaped girl, different colored fucking dumbbells, because my shoulders are so fucked.

I'm actually my left one is, but I've been working way. I've actually, I think I've worked in a lot of different ways. I've been working way. I've actually, I think I've worked my way up to man colored man colored dumbbells. I'm into the baby blue ones. The one pounders were pink and then the two pounders were like a rose color. And then I didn't have three. So I had to use a one and a two.

And then four, I want to say is is that blue or orange? I can't remember. But everything I'm basically working with is like eight pounds or under because of the rotator cuff, rotator cuff, whatever the fuck it's called. I don't even know. Rotator cuff, rotator cuff. Yeah, rotates, Bill. All right. I don't know why this feels like the longest fucking half hour of my life.

The fuck is, you know, it is. I think I probably went too hard yesterday with even just with like the food. I'm just at that fucking age. I had three burgers. I had two egg sandwiches and both burgers had all the burgers had egg on them, too. And then I had like fucking like 19 of those blonde Oreo cookies. And I get two cigars. You ever just like do something and it doesn't seem stupid

till you say it out loud? That is the dumbest fucking thing I want. What kind of a fucking way is that to start your year? Two fucking. You imagine if I went to the doctor, give me a diet over the last 24 hours. All right, I had a two breakfast sandwiches and he'd be like immediately he's looking up from whatever he's writing that you had to what we're on those.

Bacon and cheese on a English muffin. Then I had three cheeseburgers with an egg over easy on each one of those. And then I had 26 blonde Oreo cookies. I had a couple of handfuls of potato chips, another handful of Doritos. I had some waters. And I smoked two cigars. I'm sorry, did is this over the last month? No, no, this was yesterday, yesterday.

Yesterday and I did this all while sitting outside in the elements. I got to stop saying shit like this. They're going to raise my rates of my fucking life insurance. Anyway, so now this is like the cleanse. Then today I wake up and I had a smoothie. Then I had a pear, which I used to love pears when I was a kid. And I don't I just stopped eating them for a while. And then when I tried to eat them after eating apples for all these years,

it tasted weird to me, but my daughter has a book because she's almost potty trained and I swear to God, there's a book called It Hurts When I Poop. And I'm telling you, like they draw the poop in the toilet. I mean, it's just so fucking I don't recommend this book, by the way, I don't. It just it reinforces the kids get scared. Like they're scared to go to the bathroom the first time. But like going number one is not a big deal. Number two freaks them out.

Like they feel like their insides have fallen out. They don't know what's going on. And then you read this fucking book and it's in my my opinion. All it does is it just reinforces the fact that oh, this kid scared. Good, I'm scared, too. It's OK to be scared. But then they like the resolution, it's like basically the kid comes in. And he basically says it hurts when he poops, all right.

And if he has to poop, he tries not to poop. And then he gets a fucking stomachache. It goes on forever. So then the doctor tells some fucking story about a coyote or something named Bill, who when he lived at home with his parents, he was totally neat. And then he fucking lived on his own. He lived like an absolute slob. And then there was no way to sleep.

His cat had to sleep on his fucking head and it said the mess was like a bully. You know, getting in the way of all of his fun. It's like, no, it wasn't. You don't create a bully. A bully just comes to you. This dude creates the mess. So then he cleans up the mess and then he decides he should give himself a party. You know, because he finally cleaned up his fucking house

and decided to live, you know, not live like an animal, but then again, he is a coyote, right. So. That's the story she tells. And I got to be honest with you, as an adult, I'm trying really hard to see the metaphor of cleaning out your insides and then on a fucking coyote. You know, renting a house and letting it go to shit and then cleaning up. I don't fucking get it.

So then in the end, she lists a whole bunch of food that makes your poop soft. So won't hurt if you take a shit. And in the thing that makes your poops harder was apples and bananas. And one of the things that made him softer was pears. I was like, well, fuck, I got to start eating some more pears. But then the book just basically ends. She goes, okay, so now you know what to do. She goes, I'm going to call you.

Next week to see how you're doing. And then the kid goes, okay, but don't be surprised if I'm on the party when you call. Like that little blurb after fucking 20 pages of this fucking kid saying he's afraid to take a shit and then eight of those people are going to be like, hey, I'm going to get to those pages being some fucking coyote named Bill or whatever the fuck he is in a messy house that he decides to clean up, which is his responsibility. He still gives himself a party.

You get a party because you did what you were supposed to do. You fucking cunt. I don't understand. And then the end they just, they finally just, the whole fucking resolution is, hey, dad, don't be surprised if I'm on the shit. And when you call. I don't know. I have to hide that book because she, she always picks that book and

it's driving me up the fucking wall. It goes on forever. The metaphor doesn't make us any sense. And the resolution doesn't hit hard enough. All right, doesn't hit hard, like a hard shit hitting the fucking toilet water that they draw in the goddamn book. Sorry. I know that was graphic, but that's my world.

You know, that's the book that she fucking likes right now. So I'm going to, uh, I'm going like, like coyote bill. I'm going to fucking take that book and put it in a different part of the fucking house and I'm just going to, uh, yeah. Just every hour, take her in there like I have been and just act like it's not a big deal rather than reading a story about some kid who all he does is talk about that he's afraid to take a shit except for the last fucking page. Um, anyway, sorry.

I didn't mean to get emotional. Um, um, all right, we got the playoffs this weekend. Everybody playoffs. Who do you like? Here come my playoff picks. Hey, somebody who leaves a bowl game early. Fuck you, man.

I went to the, I went to 12 of them and stayed the whole goddamn time. All right, I've earned it. I walk out like Mike Pence. Um, one of the worst staged outrage things ever. All right. What am I looking for? The playoff, playoff picture here. It's garage band.

I don't need that. Ouey. Mon playoff picture. Here we go. All right. Uh, AFC wildcards, the Tennessee Titans at the New England Patriots. I say, I'm going to go out on the limb and say the Patriots win that one. All right.

We're playing a six seed. I had the hiccups. That's from yesterday. Sorry. Sorry, um, nine and seven. I should have taken the mic away when I did that. I apologize. And then you have the Buffalo Bills playing at the Houston, Texas.

Now I got to be honest with you. I don't know who the fuck's going to win that game. The bills have a great defense. Can they def, can they contain that quarterback, that mobile quarterback, whatever his goddamn name is, the Texans beat. The Patriots. So I want the bills to beat the fucking Texans. All right.

And then the winner of those games, I don't know, one of them gets to play the chiefs and one of them gets to play the Ravens. So I would think the Patriots having the best record of everybody, we would play the lower seed, the second seed, we would probably play the chiefs. So that means either the Titans, the bills or the Texans will play the Ravens next week. And that the, either the Patriots or the Texans or bills will play the chiefs. Because if the Patriots lose, the Patriots lose to the Titans, then either the

bills or the winner of the bills Texans will then play the chiefs. I think that's how it would work. I have no idea. And then you get the 49ers and Paul Verzi's pick, the Green Bay Packers. My pick is the Ravens and the Seahawks. Seahawks win it. And now I don't know how that's looking. I did not like that delay a game call that they took.

All right. You got Saints versus the Vikings. Okay. The Saints are the Saints and the Vikings are the Vikings. It's the playoffs. It's the Minnesota Vikings. They're playing a road game. This is a no brainer.

The Saints are going to win that game. The Eagles are playing at home against the Seattle Seahawks. Seattle Seahawks for some reason are a fifth seed, even though they're 11 and five and the Eagles are a fourth seed. That's right, because they won their division with a nine and seven record. Now this is a team that two years ago won the Super Bowl. This is a great, out of all the games, I think that's going to be the best game. Can Sneaky Pete come in there with the game plan?

Um, I lost a lot of confidence with them at the end of the 49ers game, but I'm sticking with my pick. I say the Seahawks win that game. I like the Saints at home. I like the Patriots and I'm going to say, I'm going to say Buffalo's going to surprise the Houston Texans. I think they're going to surprise them. Um, I think they're a really solid team.

They got a great fucking defense. And Houston Texans are just too young. They don't have any fucking traditions of, uh, any history of winning in the playoffs. So I think the fact that they're just in the playoffs, you know, all those overweight people in Houston, they're probably just excited. They get the tailgate again. You know, that's all right. Okay, there you go.

There's your playoff breakdown. And that's the, uh, Thursday afternoon, just before Friday, Monday, morning podcast, happy new year to everybody. Um, and, oh my God, my tour starts next week. Holy shit. I'm back out on the road. On the road again. Uh, I got two shows in Memphis with the Rose Bowl tailgate legend, Joe Bartnick.

That's on Monday. And I believe we're at the Orpheum theater. And then I'm at the Mahalia Jackson theater in, um, New Orleans later on that week, uh, Thursday and Friday. And, uh, then we're hanging in New Orleans and we're going to go to that fucking college Super Bowl game. We're going to the, uh, the LSU Tigers versus the Clemson Tigers. How about that?

Yeah. And now I won't be leaving that game early. I know you guys are going to give me shit for that, but I stand by the decision underrated, underrated, leaving a fucking game early when you got a wife and kid at home and you got a nice cigar back at the tailgate. All right. That's it, everybody. Uh, go fuck yourselves.

Enjoy the weekend and I will talk to you on Monday. Hey, what's going on? It's Bill Byrne. It's the Monday morning podcast for Monday, January 2nd, 2012. How's it going? How are you? I know, I know, I know I'm a day late. I understand.

And you know, I appreciate all the emails I got where people genuinely, you know, genuinely, can't even say the word. You notice how I couldn't say genuinely. And then I tried to play it off by going, you know, everybody genuinely, you know, just sort of mutter through that word. I can't pronounce that people genuinely showed concern. Where are you Bill? Did you fall down the stairs?

Um, I had a, uh, I had a crazy weekend where I was working up in, uh, San Francisco, you know, working New Year's for the first time in like four years, because I go to the Rose Bowl every year on New Year's Day and I'm just like, fuck this, I'm not working. But how the Rose Bowl works is, uh, if the Rose Bowl, if January 1st falls on a Sunday, they bump it to Monday because they don't want to compete with NFL football. So that opened the door for me to work New Year's. And I'm like, well, I don't want to fly too far away. I'll fly fucking, uh, I'll go work in San Francisco.

Sounds like a good deal to me. I'll fly out of Burbank Airport, this little cute mom and pop airport. You show up. There's like three people there. Some old lady gives you a fucking homemade cookie. It's one of those airports, you know, the time for God. And I was going to fly right up 50 minutes. I was going to land me and my girl.

We're going to hang out the night before the night before, right? Going to walk around the city, have a good time, get one of their delicious burritos. And I was going to bang out the show next morning, wake up, jump on the first one, smoking, come right back to fucking LA and it would have been done. End of story. So here's what happened to that. We're driving over, right? I'm like, you know, I'm only going to be gone for less than 24 hours.

I'll leave the car at the airport. Everything's going to be fine as I'm driving over to the fucking airport. A computer calls me, not a person, not a representative, not somebody with a heart and some sort of life force pumping through, you know, pumping through the body. A fucking computer calls, I pick up the phone. I'm like, hello. And it's like, hello, William Burr, your flight has been canceled. You are now leaving the same airport 24 hours later.

Go fuck yourself. And that was it. That was it. What the fuck? And then when they were trying to leave at 6 30 p.m. My fucking shows at eight. You know, I can't leave that late. So I call up the cut down there.

Trying to figure out what the fuck's going on. So what do they do? They immediately, well, we hear we don't have any more flights on a bird bank. We can stick it down in LAX. What happened, United Airlines? Because we tried to change our seats and the whole fucking thing was full. Okay. Since when do you cancel a full plane?

What happened? Huh? Was the pilot drunk? Is that what happened? Did he knock up one of those stewardesses? Is that what happened? Did they fuck right up in the first class cabin? There wasn't time to fucking clean up.

I don't know what happened. So then they stick me on this fucking flight out of LAX. I don't want to go out of LAX. No fucking reason of going out of Burbank is I don't want to go out of LAX. LAX sucks. It's the fucking worst. There's fucking nine million goddamn people down there and they all stand there rolling their eyes at how long the security line is.

And then when it's their turn, they're up to bat. Oh shit. And then they start undoing everything that they should have been doing in the fucking line. You know, it's like when you're in a traffic jam. It's like when you, yes, it is like this. It's like when you're in a fucking traffic jam. And everybody's slowing down and slowing the fuck down and slowing the fuck down. You're like, what's going on?

What's going on? And the traffic's so bad. You're like, I better see a fucking head lane in the road. The level of this traffic. What happens by the time we get up there? There's just somebody changing the fucking tire. Okay. And here's the stadoosh in front of you.

Who you've seen by looking at the back of their head. You see they're just as frustrated as you. What do they do? They slow down and look at it. I'm always that guy banging on the horn. Go! The fuck is wrong? How did you not learn anything in this process?

I do that shit too when the cops are standing there directing traffic. After they've mopped up all the blood and there's really nothing to see other than some twisted wreckage. Right? And Jesus Christ, you can go home and watch the footage of it on YouTube. By the time you get home, someone's going to upload it. And you got a good chance that the person who died was videotaping it. There's a couple of those on YouTube.

People videotaping, racing with other people. They lose control of the fucking car. You know? I want it tipped over. And they're sitting there driving like assholes. And it's weird. It's kind of creepy, but there's also a justice to it. So anyways, the next morning I wake up and I'm like, you know, I, oh.

So my girl's all bummed out because we're going to spend a night up in San Francisco. You know? Holding hands, walking around. You know? And now that's out the window. So of course she's pouting because that's what women do. One, you two. Yeah, I'm going to act like I'm four.

Right? Then all of a sudden you feel yourself going and like, like appeasing or whatever. Entertaining that energy that she's putting out. Like you're the one who canceled the flight. So you're trying to keep her cool while on the back of your head, you're getting fucking mad at her. Like, do you fucking understand? I'm the fucking guy who's got to do the goddamn show. What the fuck are you pouting about?

Stop being mean to me. Becomes that. So you can't be that guy. You just gotta be like, how do I know? What's some other chick shit that we can do? Hey, you want to go see the broad with the dragon tattoo above her ass? I'd love to see that movie. All right, let's go.

So we go down the street. We go see the chick with the dragon tattoo above her ass, right? Little fucking slut. And I'm watching the movie. And that's one of my things. I like action movies that have a female, a badass woman as the lead. You know, I think they've just done the guy too many fucking times. I'm a child of the 80s.

I saw it a zillion times. I saw every Schwarzenegger, every Stallone, every Chuck Norris, every Jean-Claude Van Damme, every who's the guy there was used to be as actor. Now he's a cop. And he calls everybody cuz where's the gun? Cuz he speaks in like good times jive in 2012. Steven Segel. I saw all his fucking movies.

And you know, once I saw all like collectively those 200 movies, believe it or not, I started to notice a pattern and things became a little cliche. So now they got, you know, so then they kind of backed off the badass guy movie for a while, right? Sort of became more about what the badass guy was saying, more the dialogue kind of badass shit, Tarantino shit came in, the reservoir dogs, the pulp fictions. Then I got on board with that, but I still miss just the regular old ass kicking fucking superstar. So one day they go, you know, what if we made the exact same movie except the lead

was a fucking lady and then you know what? I was right on board. It became new again. It's like when they take an old white movie and then they just make it black, you know, it's the same movie except now it's black people and I'm fucking right in there. Guess who's coming to dinner this time? Ah, now it's a white guy. Oh, I'm fucking sitting there watching it.

I mean, there's only so many storylines. What is Hollywood supposed to do? Do you realize how fucking bad movies are going to be in the year fucking? What the hell are we 2012 in the year 2100? The only thing that's really going to change is the technology. The pics are the perfect storm wave, you know, at that point to probably have somebody throwing a bucket of water in your face as you're watching it, you know, that movie is so good. What are my friends drowned?

Right? That's the only thing. But in the the at the end of the day, it's going to be the same fucking movie. So I go down there. I go down to the little movie house down to the cinema. You know, I come walking in and I go, let me get two tickets to the the chick with the tramp stamp right above her asshole. And they go, sir, you can't use that kind of language.

But the fuck you mean you're showing rated our movies? She goes, oh, that's a good point. That didn't happen, but I wish it did. And so we got the tickets. I go in there and get a big fucking Kit Kat. We set out. We start watching this. I'm watching this movie and 20 minutes in, I fall asleep.

Not because it's boring, just because I'm old. I'm at that level. All right. You give me just a halfway comfortable fucking chair and you turn the lights out. I mean, that's it. So my head gets heavy, you know, I'm like a fucking toddler. Can't hold this goddamn head up. I may be an infant.

I don't have any kids. You know, you know, when the head feels like a Nerf basketball that age, all right. If you don't hold them up, the fucking little baby esophagus starts curving like a question mark. Right. That age. That's what I feel like. So does anything make your girl matter than if you fall asleep in a movie? Are you sleeping?

No, no, I'm just really thinking about the plot. It's so deep, man. This movie is so heavy. So I thought the movie was all right. It was all right. The chick was badass. And I don't know if they were actually fucking, if they weren't actually fucking, that girl should get an Academy Award for the best miming of intercourse that I've seen.

I mean, I don't know that two people actually fucking could have moved better than the way this chick was moving. It's ridiculous. And there's been a couple of movies too where like people just are now sticking their faces between chicks ass cheeks. And I don't know if it's because we've all watched so much porn. I mean, it's fucking insane. You said they're looking at going like, all right.

Maybe she's got some sort of special effects on these on. I don't know what, but his nose is up against her. Fucking who there's no way it isn't. There's no way it is. So anyways, we watched that fucking movie and you know, we come out of there. My girl's all happy again. I go, look, you know, we're going to take a plane out tomorrow morning out of fucking LAX.

We'll be up there and nothing flat. You know, I paid for the hotel room for two nights instead of one. That way when we landed 11 in the morning, I could just fucking walk in there or 10 in the morning. I can just walk right in and check in. We don't have to wait. Sure. I'm sure you can't check in until three in the afternoon.

Then you have to check your bags and wander the city like a homeless person. You know, I'll try to put a rush on it, but go fuck yourself. You know. So anyways, wake up. We wake up the next morning and oh, by the way, the United Airlines lady had a fucking attitude with me because she goes, you're all confirmed out of LAX. I go, wait a minute, wait a minute. What about, I thought we had Burbank.

She goes, sir, you just confirmed that. And I said, hey, sweetheart, easy with the attitude. You just gave me three different flights. One of them I was going to Phoenix first. All right. You're playing flight three card money over the goddamn phone here. I don't need the attitude. And she said, I'm sorry, sir.

And I go, all right, happy new year. And then I look up, you know, and then I thought I hung up the phone, but I didn't. And I go to go to my girl. Jesus Christ. What a fucking cocksucker. And then I just heard her like pushing buttons. I don't know. I don't know if she was still listening to whatever back to the story.

So we wake up the next morning. Okay, whatever. We've been delayed 12 hours. Let's go down to fucking La X standing 800 deep line to go through to go in a fucking 50 minute flight. All right, we go on. Check our flight. Our flight is delayed an hour and we still don't have any seating assignment. And I was like, you know what, fuck this.

Fuck this. We're driving up. All right. We're fucking dry. I don't give a shit that it's five and a half hours. We're driving up and and then instantly. All the stress of the day went away because now. My destiny was back in my own hands.

Okay, I didn't have to go down there and plead with them to get me a fucking seating assignment. You know, like I was in fucking Vietnam trying to catch that loud. That's such a hacky reference at this point. Like I was in Laos trying to get a fish taco on fucking. In dictator day that's, you know, I got to read more. That's what it is. Um, like I read, you know what, if Charlie Sheen made a movie about fucking Laos, then I would have had that fucking reference for you.

Wow. This this podcast just died. Let me try to resuscitate it here. So anyways, so we end up, we end up fucking driving up there. We have a great goddamn time. I'm driving up in a four door. Fucking, uh, Ram 1500 pickup truck that I rented for the fucking granddaddy of them all. You know, fucking cruised up in that thing.

Cruised up. Oh, and like fucking 90 the whole way. Anytime you see one of those signs that says, you know, you're in the middle of nowhere and it says warning your speed can be is being tracked by aircraft, it isn't. It isn't. All right. What do you think? Did somebody up there in a biplane with fucking a scarf flapping in the wind?

Okay. From that tree to that tree was a 5.6 carry the one. Fuck yourself. Has anybody ever gotten a ticket because some guy in an airplane figured out that they were going 70 and a 55? Huh? Did you? Well, send me an email about it because I'm not reading it.

Um, yeah. So I just drove 90 the whole fucking way up. Ended up getting up there at like, I think like 12 noon. So it only took me as far as like time goes and only took like an extra 60 minutes because, you know, you got to get down there an hour and a half fucking early. The flight's an hour and a half. That's three fucking hours. Then you got to deal with another hour getting back from the thing.

That's, that's right there. That's four and a half hours. Was it? Was that four? Whatever. Took me another two hours. Cunts. You know, but I had a nice big seat.

I didn't have some fat fuck sit next to me. And if I wanted to pull over and take a piss at a Dairy Queen, I could. And you know what I got to see is I drove. I got to see America. You know, I got to read these signs stop the Congress created dust bowl. And I was like, what the fuck is that? And then I had something to do with they're not giving them enough water up there. And I was like, oh, there's something else that I can read that's going to scare the

shit out of me. Why are they fucking with the food supply? So anyways, Jesus Christ, where the fuck am I? So we go up, I do the goddamn show. And then I drive back and everything was fucking great. And then what? Then what? It's, I get the whole day off.

And I just start preparing for the Rose Bowl, the fucking granddaddy of them all. We're doing it up bright this year. We had the four door pickup truck. We had two grills. We had marinated steaks. And we had like 36 fucking Budweiser's two big things of Crown Royal and some Jameson and ketchup, right? Ready to tailgate.

So we pick everybody up. It's going down like fucking one of those Chuck Norris movies when he's picking up all his special forces. Right? Fucking three deep driving over to fucking Joe Bartnick's. Joe Bartnick's the heart and soul of our fucking tailgate. All right. We pull up, I call him. He tells me he threw out his fucking back.

All right. But we're like, ah, this is Bartnick. He's going to be fine. He comes walking out of the side of his building. I swear to God, you would have thought that he was walking on broken glass and we see him. All right. Our enforcer hobbling up the goddamn street and it just took the wind out of all of our sails. You know what I mean?

It's like you're on the Celtics and Larry can't play. And he got the Lakers that day. You know, and he comes walking up and we're all legitimately concerned about him because we can tell he's in a ton of pain. And he opens the door ever so gingerly before any of us can speak. He goes, you know what, boys? You play hurt today. And you know why?

And then he screams because it's the granddaddy of them all, baby. And then fucking makes a fist and starts punching everybody. Instead of doing a fist bump, he's punching your fist. And then we knew it was on, you know, it was like somebody took away Christmas and then all of a sudden they go just fucking with you and they flip the lights back on. And I got to tell you something every year. I tell you guys all these hilarious fucking stories at the Rose Bowl, but this year we drank so much.

I really can't remember anything. I can't remember a fucking thing. All I remember was we pulled up. They put us on, you know, you're in a golf course. We're on this grassy knoll and lawhead's telling me, hey, you want to fucking pull up a little bit more? And we're like, no, no, no, we'll put, we'll put, do the tailgate in front of the truck.

All right. And everything was great. We set up shop. Everything was iced down. And I opened that first Budweiser, huh? The king of beers at the granddaddy of them all. And I drank it like it was nothing. And I was like, wow, that went down really smoothly.

And then I saw the crown royal sitting there. And I just said, hey, I go, who wants a heater? And that's really the last thing that I vividly remember. I had no nourishment in my stomach. I had a beer and I poured basically a quadruple. It was probably maybe a triple because there was a lot of ice in there. And I had both of those before I had my fucking omelet. And it's weird.

Like I don't not remember the tailgate, but I don't really remember it. We were there at 830. The game didn't start till two. And I felt like I was tailgating for like 20 minutes. It's all I remember. I remember Bartnick at one point. We were unloading and all of a sudden he just yells at this top of his lungs. He goes, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the granddaddy of them all.

And basically scared the shit out of 90% of the people around our tailgate, which was great. He basically pissed on our whole territory and nobody fucked with us for the rest of the time. What else happened? I remember this fucking hot chick came over with this Wisconsin. I know, right? Hot chick from Wisconsin. Who would have thought?

You know, they usually look pretty banged up if it fucking banged up out there. You know, they're going to school and they're working on the farm. Just taking all four fucking seasons right to the face. You know, the side order of cheese. I mean, that's hard living up there. Look at those people. They don't know any better. Look at the Green Bay Packers.

Is there any fucking logical reason why they're that close to the Arctic Circle and they still play the game outside? I mean, I feel it should be played outside. Apps are fucking loopy. You know, but the level of pussies that are in this country now, I can't believe they haven't, you know, we need some sort of retractable dome. They don't, they sit outside showing up in earmuffs and a fucking fedora, just like Vince Lombardi.

They don't know any better. It's not because they're tough. They don't fucking know any better. That's why they eat the way they eat up there. They don't know any fucking better. You know, it's the funniest fucking thing is bringing up any sort of healthy eating to somebody from Wisconsin. They immediately just fucking wrinkle up their goddamn noses.

You know, and it's not even like, oh, that's gay. I'm not eating that way. Like they literally eating in a healthy way, discuss them. They, they react to vegetables the way most people react to like sardines. So this fucking hearty shows up, right? She's got the, you know, they got the badge of red and white fucking overalls. She's wearing a pair of those with nothing, but it's like a fucking tube top underneath it. You know, a little raven to haired cutie, but brown eyes,

tits, skin all fucking tan, a little sexy tattoo on the fucking side. And she comes walking over and goes, Hey, you guys want to do a dirty Sanchez? And I'm thinking, what the fuck is a dirty Sammy? I mean, I, I've heard this, the, the, the sex one, what are you talking about? And she had some tequila and she had a, and then she had this big jar of pickles. So they're fucking doing shots of tequila and right after you drink pickle juice. And I know that that sounds disgusting. I can tell you it was the greatest fucking thing ever.

Because I don't care how hardcore you are. There's no way to drink tequila without making that. I just drank some tequila face. And I took a shot at the tequila and like an asshole, I was so drunk. I didn't get how she explained it to me. I was trying to reach in and take out a pickle. I was going to eat it. She's going, no, no, you drink, you drink the juice.

I'm like, well, oh, oh, that's how you do it. All right, let me try it again. So I did another shot and then I drank the pickle juice. And I got to tell you it was fucking tremendous. You know, you take a shot at tequila and you feel like somebody punched you in the throat. And then you drink that room temperature pickle juice and it's like somebody gives you a hug. Like, oh, sorry about that. I know that was your larynx and that probably hurt, you know.

So I learned that. So there you go. That was the problem. I was drinking Budweiser's. I was, I was, I don't even, I don't even know what the fuck happened. I remember standing in a line at one point going, is this the line of the bathroom? And they were like, no, it's the line to the gift shop. And there was this giant building with this huge sign that said Rose ball gift.

And that guy, the guy I had that, please don't punch my wife or scare my children. Look on his face. And I was like, wow, I think I'm really fucked up. Um, and, uh, I don't know. And then I went into the game. I was completely fucking wasted, but I remember the entire game. It reminded me of the old like San Diego charge of Miami Dolphins matchups back in the day when it was just like no fucking defense.

The fuck was the final score? It was like 45 38. And I was so bummed out when that dude didn't spike the ball in time. You know, because I was like, here we go. He's got one shot going down, you know, in the end zone, one shot in the end zone for the granddaddy of them all. Let's see it. And then they tweet.

He didn't get it off in time. And we're all sitting there like, you got to be fucking kidding me. And then they go to do a review of it. I'm thinking in my fucking head, there's no goddamn way they're going to let this fucking great game end on that fucking play. Right. And then they come out and they go, yeah, it's over. They shoot off confetti.

I was like, what the fuck? The fucking awful. So then we wander out to the truck back out in the parking lot. We fired up the grill and people started drinking again. I tapped out because I had to drive. And that was basically the Rose Bowl this year. I'm sorry. I usually have a bunch of funny stories, but honestly, I can't remember.

I was so fucking excited that we had all this food. Next year, I'm going to eat a little something first and I'm going to start with beers. Okay. And I'm going to not go to the whiskey for the first couple hours. I think that that was the big mistake. We were bait. It was like a one round knockout. That's what our tailgate.

But first we were like out on our feet for the final fucking 11 rounds. I remember one point talking to somebody's wife saying, you know, because, you know, the wife of course didn't want him to go. You know, I can't tell it's because, you know, probably because she was smart. And I just remember talking to her telling her what a great man her husband was and saying, hey, he's over there right now sitting down, just enjoying the sunshine. And he wasn't remotely doing anything like that. Sorry.

Sorry, smoking a fucking cigar yesterday too. That was another thing, you know, and I was so drunk. I kept forgetting it was in my hand. So then it would go out and then I'd have to relight it. And I was too drunk to fucking, you know, do the get it to go. And I was actually inhaling. So I, I don't know. Yeah, we had four Ricky Riccardo's fucking smoke those up.

And I remember getting a pretzel. I'm just going to piece this whole fucking thing together. Like the guy who played hand solo, you know, with the one arm murderer, the fugitive. The fuck happened. I remember standing in line and getting a pretzel and I go, you want salt or no salt? I go, I'll take salt. And it was so fucking salty. I just, I just remember just flicking the fucking salt off and it was getting all over my shirt

because I'd already put mustard on it. The fuck is wrong with me? Well, this is what I want to tell you guys. I'm taping another stand up special. The first week, first weekend in March, tickets aren't on sale yet and I'm not naming the city yet either because I got to wait till everything's all fucking legally solidified there. And, and I am now, I am in dry dock once again. I am off the booze.

That was it. I don't know when I'm going to drink again. Maybe on my birthday in June. I like it. I had a great time drinking yesterday, but I am banged up. And I don't need to do that again for a long time. So I'm definitely not going to drink right up to the special. And then by then I'll have a good fucking 60 days in.

I'm like, let's go for 100 days again. I did. Let's go for 200. Then I'll try and break my fucking record. 367 days. In the meantime, I'll keep the weight off. I won't become Billy Fat Face. That's what it's all about.

I don't want to be Billy Fat Face walking around. Oh, look at him. There's a guy I went to high school with. Look at his fat face. No, I don't want to be that guy. I don't want to be a tub of shit. It's one of my big goals in life. Oh, speaking of which, do you guys make any New Year's resolutions?

Who's kidding? Oh, a New Year's resolution is basically, let's see how long I can do this before I go back to being the same douchebag I was. Isn't that what they really are? You lie to yourself. I'm making a change. You know, and maybe you can stick it out halfway through February, but by the beginning of March, what happens?

You look in the mirror as you're brushing your teeth. You just, yeah, you're an asshole. It starts tomorrow. Tomorrow I get back on the horse. So that's it. That's it. I'm done. I'm done with the booze.

I'm done with the booze. Maybe until the Rose Bowl next year. Maybe that's what I'll do. Once a fucking year. You know, everybody knows that guy who owns a fucking Harley in their neighborhood. And once a year, he gets a haircut and a shave. Everybody know a guy like that?

Sure, we all do. Dead Eye Pete. He always got some sort of nickname. You know, maybe he killed somebody. Maybe he didn't, you know, then he had some weird, really effeminate thing about him. You know, like he could literally choke a fucking sauce watch to death.

Yet he likes to finger paint or something. Maybe that's what I'll do. Maybe once a year. I'm going to drink at the granddaddy of them all. I don't know what happened this year. I really don't. And I don't understand how I so vividly remember the game, yet was completely.

I don't remember the fucking tailgate whatsoever. You know what sucks was for the first year I missed the flyover. I was in the tunnel when the flyover happened. And all these fucking Wisconsin fans are fucking walking and waddling their way to their goddamn seats. I was rooting for Wisconsin this year, by the way. Oh, by the way, congratulations to Oregon winning your first Rose Bowl since 1917.

That's fucking unbelievable. Unfucking believable. Ninety-five years. I rooted against them because I didn't like their snow globe helmets. Those things were just stupid. You know, little hologram. Come on, you're a football team.

Or you're writing greeting cards. You know, it's bad enough you're called the ducks. Goddamn, they were a fast fucking team. Jesus Christ, how many times did somebody turn the corner and you're thinking, all right, this is a six yard game. And all of a sudden, he's at the 40, the 30, that 20, touchdown. It's fucking unreal. Did I even stay in the stands during the...

Yeah, it's all coming back to me. I saw the halftime show. Some band went out and did a bunch of Van Halen songs. You know, because nothing says Van Halen like a hundred piece fucking orchestra. I actually got to tell you, I think it was Wisconsin that did it, their Wisconsin band. That was the only thing that sounded worse

than when David Lee Roth did the bluegrass version of Van Halen songs. But anyways, and so this is Christmas. Christmas is over, everybody. I want to ask you this, have you thrown out your tree yet? Don't you always feel fucking weird when you do that? You get so excited for this fucking Christmas tree, you know? And then what happens?

Like, the day it's over, you just look at it like it was in a boy band and the Justin Timberlake left. And now, yeah, you're just looking at your Christmas tree like it's Lance Bass in fucking 2006. You know? So I actually pride myself in the way I dispose of my Christmas tree every year. I do it the proper way.

I do it the way you're supposed to. I don't just fucking, you know, put it in the passenger seat of my car like some fucking hitchhiker you met. Put two in the back of its head and you throw it out on the fucking medium strip of a highway. I don't do that. I dispose of it like the fucking Iceman. You know, do you guys ever see the Iceman

when he talked about cutting up the bodies? That's what I do. Get all the decorations, all the jewelry, cut out the fillings, you know? And then I take it out in the driveway and I fucking cut it up and I stick it in the recyclable. You know? Unlike my fucking neighbors who just take the whole tree

and stick it in the recycle bin. Fucking things sticking out, standing there like that fucking old school Denver Broncos fan that wears the barrel around his waist. That's the only thing it's missing. When you just take the whole Christmas tree and you stick it in the barrel, you should just have some fucking suspenders

going up and over attached onto it. Is that what it should have, Bill? Oh, I think it should. All right, let's read. This is the Monday Morning Podcast, by the way, everybody. And hey, let's get down to some fucking in the bullshit here. I've actually finally figured out a way here to make some money off the podcast.

Do you guys go to Amazon.com? Sure, we all do. Anytime you guys go there, if you'd like to make a donation to my podcast, rather than going directly to Amazon.com, just go to BillBurr.com, click on podcast. I know this is a couple of extra steps, all right? And once you click on the podcast,

you look on the right hand side of the page, right under where it says iTunes is Amazon.com. You click right on there, you go to Amazon, and you buy something. It doesn't cost you any more money, but I get a percentage. They give me a little, but they give me a little kickback. Here you go, Bill.

Don't tell nobody we gave this to you, right? Just for driving people towards Amazon.com. So you're already going there. Now you just go there through my website, you know, and in that way, you get to donate to the podcast without spending any fucking money, you know? I'm not telling you to go to Amazon.com

and buy something you don't want to fucking buy. I'm saying when you go there, go through my website, click on the Amazon.com, and you buy something, and then 10% of whatever I make, I'm going to give to the Wounded Warriors Project. So it's a way to support this podcast

and support the troops, and get yourself the fucking, I don't know, whatever the fuck, the Radiohead anthology, whatever the fuck you're buying over there, who knows? Oh, and speaking of that, I also have another, I have another sponsor. What is it? Stamps.com.

That's the latest one. If you go to stamps.com, you know what? I was too drunk yesterday to try and fucking remember how this one goes. I don't know how this one goes. I'll let you know about it next week, but it's basically stamps.com.

You know what happens? You go down to the fucking post office, you got to stand in line to get stamps to go up to one of those grumpy people that's going to end up shooting up the fucking place. Right, what do they say? Go in postal. There's a reason they say that.

Those fucking people are dangerous down there. Now I'm usually against that automated shit. All right? You know, I don't like that automated shit down at the grocery store, but those fucking, the goddamn people behind the register don't shoot up the fucking grocery store every three goddamn days.

All right? But this shit, you know, I fucking hate the post office. They're a bunch of cunts. There, I said it. You go down there, you stand in the fucking line, you stand there for 20 fucking minutes, you finally get up to front

just to buy a book of goddamn stamps, and the douche puts this windows closed and then goes over and eats a fucking chicken salad sandwich where you can see them. I fucking hate those cunts. And to the point I actually started using the automated machine down there. It's something else I don't fucking like

because when you stand in line, where is it? Oh, automated machine. It's going to be so fucking easy, right? No, there's some asshole up there sending out his Christmas cards to 400 fucking relatives. He's got to weigh packages and all that shit. And what's the problem there? He doesn't work at the post office.

He doesn't know how to fucking do it. But if you go to stamps.com, everybody, you just fucking bang bang boom, you click it, you get some goddamn stamps, and you don't have to go down there and put your life in jeopardy. There, stamps.com, everybody, go fuck yourselves. How was that for a read?

Did you like that? What the hell's my computer? All right, it's over here. That might have been the angriest commercial you're ever going to hear. We liked what he was saying if he could just not say it so angrily. All right, last week I asked the ladies

to justify the divorce laws. Okay, and you know what? Not a goddamn one of them could fucking do it. So for some reason, some guy decides to write in. I was basically saying justify to me, justify to me, justify to me. Why Kobe Bryant's wife deserves $190 million. Justify it to me.

Don't say, well, because that's what the law says. Don't say that. Justify the reasoning for it. And I use the example. If I asked you why is it illegal to kill somebody, you wouldn't be like, that's what the law says. You'd be like life is the most precious thing in the planet. We all need to respect people's lives.

If you do not respect somebody's life, we can't just have people go around taking other people's lives away like they're the Lord. All right, you could justify the reasoning for it. You know what? And nobody can do it, including this douchebag. This guy goes, Bill, here's why she deserves the money. And then he goes on and says, marriage is nothing more

than a legal and or religious fiction that makes two people partners. Wow. There's some new information. When two consenting adults get married of their own free will, they are volunteering themselves into an official partnership where both parties agree that their lives and assets are now shared equally,

unless they agree on a prenup. Do you see the difference here? This guy is basically doing, he's basically in an elaborate way going, ah, that's not the law says. He's not justifying it. Justify to me, why? Why does that law exist?

I know why I shouldn't kill you. I shouldn't take your life away. You're fucking, it's your life. You get one of them. I shouldn't take it away. It totally makes sense. It's logical that we can't have people going around killing one another, you know, unless they're evil doers.

But it's, you can't, you can't on any way justify somebody getting $190 million of NBA championship rings and they've never even fucking hit a layup in the league. Did she ever even play basketball? No, you cannot logically tell me, you can't justify it. Sir, all you're doing right now is you're telling me what the fucking law is. I understand what the law is.

I understand that I live in California and if I get married and I don't have a fucking prenup, okay, she is automatically entitled to half of my shit. She's entitled to half of my shit. It doesn't make sense though. I'm telling you to make sense of it. Don't tell me, you're basically going, you know, there's a law in Alabama,

if you're in a car with a girl who's 17, she ain't got her shoes on, that's that's Torah rape. And then I go justify that law to me. Why is the, what, where is the rape in that? What is that? And then, well, when two consenting adults get into a car and the one with the pussy takes her shoes off and she's 17 and under, that's not justifying it.

Then he goes on to say, why wouldn't any person who's worth substantially more money than the other agree to such an arrangement? Now you're just saying, Kobe's fucking stupid for doing this. That's, that's not my question, brad. All right? He goes in the end, he goes,

if Kobe had suffered a career ending injury when he'd married his wife, and then she went on to win the Super Lotto and at $100 million, I guarantee Kobe would want his split and he would deserve every penny. Okay, why? Why would he deserve every penny?

Tell me why. I'm not saying that he wouldn't ask for it. You're not answering the fucking question, brad. Answer the fucking question. Why, why, you don't fucking deserve it. You don't, you don't. If you go out and you marry the greatest composer of all time and that person composes this timeless fucking music

that for fucking centuries people are gonna be listening to and analyzing and during the course that you made hundreds of millions of dollars. Okay? I understand why that person made hundreds of millions of dollars. I don't get why if he then gets a divorce from somebody who can just sit there on the couch eating fucking Doritos all day when they get divorced

why they're entitled to half of the fucking riches. Stop explaining. I know the law says that that's why they should. The law says that they are legally entitled to. I'm saying what is the reasoning behind that? Okay, I get it. You don't want a bunch of guys going out starting families and then fucking walking away.

I understand that. But at some fucking point, you have enough fucking money. She should just write her check for 20 million dollars. 20 million dollars is more money than most people will ever make in their fucking lives. Most people won't even come close to that in their fucking lifetime. Will not come close to that. She's getting it all at once.

You get 20 million dollars. You are set for fucking life. But that's not enough for these cunts. They get 190 million dollars. This is what fucking kills me. They're worth nine figures. They haven't accomplished anything in their life. I understand why Kobe is worth 300 fucking million dollars.

Do you see this guy this past week? He's got a fucking, he's has an injury that most people would have sat out six months of the season. This guy is a fucking warrior. This is a Celtics fan saying that. That guy is a fucking warrior. Okay, they don't make guys like that. Guys like that come around once every two, three generations.

That guy is the fucking man and he is worth, I understand why he's worth 30 million dollars. I for the life of me do not understand. I cannot justify whatever the fucking law says. Fuck that law. Justify it for me. You can't do it. You guys had an entire fucking week.

Nobody can do it. And one guy named Brad basically just told me what the law was. But he didn't justify it. Why does that law exist? Why isn't there some sort of fucking out? Shut up, Bill. We got it. All right.

That's just fucking drives me up the fucking wall. He's fucking goddamn bum ass fucking women. Can't even tie that goddamn shoes or walking around multi-millionaires. I saw one time this fucking lady, she was married to this guy in the NBA and the guy fucked around on her and they get a divorce. Yeah, got a divorce. Okay.

Yeah, he fucked around. Yeah, he fucked up, you know. And then she goes out, takes all this fucking money and drives around in a car with a license plate that says his money. I just think like this, the arrogance and the self-entitled, like I am entitled. Well, you cheated on me. Therefore, I'm entitled to hundreds of millions of dollars.

You're not. You're not. But you are because that's what the law says. It's the stupidest fucking thing ever. His money. Can you believe the arrogance of that shit? That'd be like if you knocked your wife out. You know, your second wife out.

And then you got a license plate that said two for two. You said two for two and then every guy on TV was going, that's right, that's right. Like totally backing it. You fucking bum ass broads. Go out and get a fucking job. Go invent something. Earn your fucking money.

Fucking cheated on you. Of course he did. He doing what he's supposed to be doing. You get a fucking champion race for money. What do they do yet? Does it go out and fuck one horse and that's it? No, they send it out to stud because it's got that championship gene pumping through his blood.

You know why there's so many mouth, breathing fat fucks on airplanes because of the marriage laws because you only can bang one of them. And our great ones with that fucking thoroughbred seamen are supposed to stick with one person. Are you out of your fucking mind? All right, that was ignorant and disgusting. All right, let's plow ahead here.

Okay, the question is still open still on the table. Tell me why, tell me why. Kobe's wife justify why she deserves $190 million. Justify it morally. The way I can justify to you morally why you can't, you shouldn't kill somebody. Why you shouldn't steal somebody's stuff. I totally get all of that.

I get all of that. You know, these same fucking broads who can't justify this can justify morally why a guy shouldn't fuck around on his wife. They wouldn't be like, well, because that's what the law says. They wouldn't. They wouldn't. They would fucking did what right off the top of their fucking heads could give you a 20 minute speech and none of it would have to do with the law.

It would all have to do with love and trust and relationships and they could morally justify this fucking law. There's not a fucking broad out there. A guy out there that can justify somebody who sits around all goddamn day not doing shit and then being entitled to $190 million of Los Angeles Lakers championship money. If you had an alien land on this planet, the first question would be, well, does this person play for the Lakers? Does she work for them?

Did she draft the players? Did she design the uniforms that what does she do? Did she really? Really? And then that would be it. You take out his little laser gun and he'd shoot her in the twat and that would be it. But sadly, we don't live in a world like that. All right, advice for the week.

Number one, Bill, my wife and I are both workout people. Triathlons, half marathons, et cetera. You guys are going to get his and her hip replacements in your fucking early 60s. Last year, we started attending a class. Oh, dude, this is fucked up. I remember this one. Last year, we started attending a class to help with this, to help with this.

Oh, we're working out and the instructor seemed like a good shit. We got along great and he works for the same company we do. This is a huge company in, I'm not going to say where. So it's not like he sits next to me or something. Anyway, we really enjoyed this guy's class and he would email all the people that took the class regularly telling them what they needed for that day's class. Weights, a mat, jump rope, et cetera. It's P90X oriented.

So since we were both on the mailing list, we knew his email address. I started to see things happening. My wife was emailing him a lot. He was emailing her a lot. It was a conversation between them via work email, which is okay, I guess. But then they started texting each other. Oh, and it was frequent. I come downstairs and hear her phone snapshot and I'd say, who are you talking to?

She would always say, no one or just checking my messages, et cetera. Being that I'm a system engineer in technology, I called bullshit and proceeded to capture her passwords on the laptop downstairs. Jesus Christ. He goes, I know, but I wanted to see what was up. So I got her password logged into her phone account online and lo and behold, she was texting this guy back and forth. First of all, dude, how did you capture her password?

This is why I don't bank online. I don't do any of that shit. This is secure. It's a secure site. No, it isn't. Anyways, so he finds out that she's texting this dude, both of them are texting back and forth. And he says, I'm not just saying during the day a few times. I'm saying throughout the day and up until 11pm at night, even after midnight.

And while I'm lying in bed next to her, she would always get pissed if I said anything about who the fuck are you talking to at 11pm. We became mutual friends with this person from the start and I asked some girls I knew and some guys and some guys that I that both knew them and they both said, yeah, you need to address it. So I called the dude one night and pretty much said, stop fucking texting my wife at night. Or you or you and I are going to have a problem. And he immediately shut it down. This guy's five, seven, 150 pounds and not some stutter or anything.

I'm six, one, 200 pounds and could easily stomp his ass out. He's an endurance runner, not some super jack guy. He immediately stopped. And every time I saw him in the locker room or the gym, he was very cautious around me and way too nice, almost like it was his way of saying sorry. Everything stopped after that. My question is, was I right doing this, addressing it with him? Basically texting has blurred the lines between what's okay and what's not.

Guys and girls always say, oh, it was just a text, but no big deal. But I think that's horseshit. It's the same as a phone call to me. So if you want to call my wife while I'm in bed with her, go for it, but they won't. Texting is a bitch move, which is why so many people get busted doing it. If they want to email each other at work and discuss workout routines, I get it. But having that instant connection through your phone, no matter where they are, is a little odd, especially while I'm in bed right next to her.

Am I wrong for putting this bitch in line and telling him to stop it? Yeah, dude. You know what? The only reason why you're asking me if you're wrong is because you busted your fucking wife and right now she's mind fucking you, manipulating you, trying to get you. She's basically almost done it, almost flipped it around. You're actually questioning, am I fucking wrong for fucking catching my wife, texting with this other guy at 11 o'clock at night?

There's only one reason you text somebody at 11 o'clock at night. Two reasons. Either you ran out of gas or you're trying to fuck him. That's the only two reason people text at that fucking hour of the night. He's trying to fuck your wife. All right? And I don't know what's up with your wife. Okay?

Because you're going, who are you texting? Oh, nobody. Right there. The fact that she goes, oh, nobody and slams the fucking phone shot right there. She knows she's doing something that ain't fucking cool. This is a very fucking touchy subject. All right? Because this involves the woman cheating and guys solve problems with violence.

So I'm not trying to fucking egg you on here, sir, but you definitely did the right thing. And that's really a what the fuck situation that you're in. That ain't fucking cool. All right? I'm going to step outside of your situation now, sir. All right? Other than say that you 100% did the right thing and do not let her fucking worm her way out of it. All right?

Personally speaking now, now I'm talking about me. I'm stepping away from this story. If I caught my girl doing it, that's a fucking wrap. It's over. The relationship is fucking over. Go fuck yourself. All right? It's over.

It's over. I know where the fuck this is going. I know where the hell this is leaving. What the fuck are you texting this guy for at 11 o'clock at night? You want to suck his dick? Why? What does he tell you how to do the perfect jumping jack at 11 30 at night? He couldn't tell you that at four.

He has to email you, text you fucking 9,000 times during the course of the day to tell you how to do a fucking push-up. You mean a fucking break? You're flirting with this guy. You want to fuck him. So relationship is over. Happy fucking. Bumbadida, Bumbadida, Bumbadida, right? Happy trails to you.

Get the fuck out of here. It's over. That's, that's, that's how you got to handle that thing. The same way fucking Kobe's wife, when she busted him cheating, rather than taking that big Tweety Bird diamond that she got from him, she, right there, the relationship, it's fucking over. It's fucking over. Trust is gone.

It's fucking over. But he's worth hundreds of millions of dollars, which for some reason, she's entitled to half of it. So she stuck around. She stuck around, put in her 10 years. Now he has to pay for her fucking life for the rest of her life. He has to fucking support her like she's a goddamn child and it's legal. Somebody please justify that.

I'll never get over it, people. I'll keep going back to it till one of you motherfuckers can morally justify the reasoning behind that fucking law. Please stop wasting my time by telling me what the law is. In speculating, well, if the tables were flipped, Kobe would have done it. I'm not saying who would have done what I'm saying morally. Tell me the reasoning behind that fucking law.

Okay. The only thing I can think of is that back in the day, guys would start families and then jump on the horse and say, I'm fucking out of here and they just left. And then you had this poor woman with four kids and they were in poverty. I get that. You want to fucking avoid that. Okay.

If that's what the justify, if you're going to try and justify it that way, I get it. But what I would like to introduce is a new modification of that law where there's some sort of salary cap. Okay. I don't think just because you married somebody who's rich, man or woman, that that gives you the fucking right to sit on your goddamn ass for the rest of your fucking life and get arrogant license plates saying his money, her money. I didn't pay for it.

Ha, ha, ha. I mean, right there. You wonder why people get killed. That's the kind of shit right there. That's two minutes for instigating right there. If he comes over and fucking slaps the goddamn spit out of your mouth. Why did you do it? Look at her license plate, your honor.

Yeah, you know what? That makes sense. The fuck is wrong with you? What do you have that license plate for? That's not how it works. I don't care that she's being a cunt. That's no excuse for treating her like one. All right.

Advice number two. Dear Bill, Bill, I met you after a show in Pittsburgh. The black guy with the hot Latina and we laughed about my shoes matching my outfit. Welp, my beautiful girlfriend for the past three years has a little bit of insecurity, insecurity issues. A lot of those are absolutely gorgeous women do. And you know why it is? It's because their level, I'm not even reading this shit.

The reason why I think a lot of them are fucking insecure is because, because they're beautiful and that goes away after a while. So the clock is just fucking ticking. You know, if you just some regular douchebag like me, there's no pressure going back to your fucking high school reunion. I mean, the expectations are so fucking low. You know, it's easy to surpass him. Like, oh, geez, he didn't get fat.

This guy's awesome. But if you're a fucking hot chick, it can just, it can only go downhill. And I also think that they have the same insecurity a rich guy has where rich guys like this woman's just with me because of my money, not because of who I am. I think that they have the insecurity that this person is just with me because of my ass and today's high. All right.

For some odd reason, she feels the need for me to prove to her that I love her whenever we're in a public setting. So recently during some Christmas shopping, she got upset that I wouldn't hold her hand as we walked through the mall. She proceeded to catch one of the, one of her spicy Latin attitudes with me. See now, if you were white and you said that and you said that on TV, you would have to apologize for nine weeks when you would lose your job. Why does it have to be spicy?

Are you saying that Latino people are like their peppers? All right. I'm going to stop commenting and just plow through this. Okay. So I handle handle the situation like a G parentheses gentlemen and completely ignored her ass. Until we got into the car and I finally had enough of her telling me how I don't love her and how she wants me to love her. Oh, I don't love her how she wants me to love her and how unaffectionate of a man I am.

And you know what, dude, that right there is probably how you got this hot girl because you weren't the first guy sitting there with your tongue hanging out of your mouth. You acted like you didn't even give a fuck, which fed into her insecurity of like, Oh my God, is the expiration date hit? Am I not hot anymore? Look at me commenting again. All right. I swear these bitches are so unappreciative.

I'm unappreciative. This is funny. You call them bitches. Why can't these bitches understand how much I appreciate their ass? Every weekend, Bill, we do something. Dinner, movies, plays, etc. But because she has a veg, she has to find something to complain about. I think it's because women have this trait where they feel a strong need to be miserable.

No, dude, you know what's going on is you're spoiling her. You're taking it to dinner movies plays every fucking weekend. Now she's come to expect it. You know what I mean? It's just become part of a routine. It's not special anymore. So now you have to do something extra special because special isn't special. You know, that's what I, you know what, I'm not to whisper this shit.

We were up in San Francisco, right? I lit up my credit cards this Christmas. All right. My girl had a great fucking Christmas. All right. It's three days later. We're up in fucking San Francisco. She wants to go shopping.

I'm like, for what? You didn't get enough, you know? So she knows I'm right. So what does she do? She tells me she wants a goddamn candle. Okay. Because it's not expensive, but she'll still feel like she got something. I don't know what it is.

They always got to, they always got to get stuff. There's always got to be some sort of a goodie bag. And you know what I wouldn't get it for? I wouldn't get it for. Like, are you done? No, I'm not. It's over. My credit cards are still glowing.

I'm not getting you shit. And, you know, she's cool as hell. So she just kept laughing because I was being unbelievably rude and I was being really loud. I was just joking around. And, but still, that's the thing. And I just kept saying, I spoil you. I'm, you know, we're shutting it down for a while.

You're not getting anything until Valentine's Day. You know, you want something? Now I'll get you a little bag of Fritos. What do you think about that? Maybe something to wash it down with. And then what they do is they immediately get mad. And then all you do is you don't take the bait. They want you to get mad so then they can turn it into a fight

about something else because they know you're fucking right. All right. So let it be mad. All you got to do, you just got to stay fucking calm. Well, let's see what this guy does. Uh, so anyways, he goes, So we are driving along the highway, leaving them all, and she's still bitching.

And finally I tell her, you know what? If you don't like the way I express my love for you, then step off. Uh, gotta read that quote like a black man. I can't. I'm not even gonna try to. So immediately, I actually read that. I read that like a douchey East Coast white guy.

Fucking step off. Uh, how did you? If you don't like that motherfucker, then step off, bitch. How was that? Was that good? I know it wasn't. Well, then don't ask me to do it. All right, plowing ahead.

You know what? I might have like a fucking substitute black guy for when black guys write some shit in here. So you guys can read it the way you're supposed to say it. Other than that, you're getting fucking a cracker ass read and you're going to have to live with it. All right. So immediately after that, I said, after I said that,

this bitch starts throwing these accurate and quick ass pocky old combos. She's punching you. Mind you, I'm doing 65 miles per hour down the highway, trying not to hit the guard rail, while at the same time getting this crazy bitch off me. Luckily, I didn't crash my year old Mercedes. This guy is hilarious.

Come on, dude. Do you love this girl or is she just another accessory? My year old Mercedes with the Corinthian leather, I get pulled over, get pulled over or God forbid, seriously injure us. I mushed the hell out of her and held her face against the passenger window, totally acceptable, totally acceptable.

The mush is the gentleman move. You can't punch her. You just hold her head up against the glass. So the people on the other side get to see where her face looks in a Funhouse mirror in order to decrease her reach while steering the car on the highway and absorbing her manly combos. Got to give it to her.

The bitch had a mean right. So if you can picture me driving, I can totally picture this dude. I've lived this. So you can picture me driving down the highway in a bright red Mercedes. I didn't ever had a Mercedes. It was more in a 83 Ford Ranger with black vinyl seats.

Swerving like some drunk in and out of lane, staring with one hand and stiff arming the shit out of my girls if I'm posing for the Heisman trophy. After she stopped beating my face in, she had the nerve to say I hit her and hurt her worst by pressing her face against the glass. Are you fucking kidding me? This bitch almost took both of our lives.

Long story short, as soon as I was able to come to a safe and complete stop, I kicked the bitch out and haven't heard from her since. This was three weeks ago and it's all for the best. That type of girl can never be satisfied, which is something I've learned the hard way over the past three years. But this was the straw that did it.

So my question for you is, was I wrong in this situation and do I owe her an apology? No and no. All right. All you can do is break down your game plan. All right. This is where you fucked up. You took the bait.

All right. She kept bitching and bitching and bitching and bitching, trying to make you mad. She was, she got you to do exactly what she wanted you to do. So that gave her an excuse to do what she wanted to do, which was fucking flip out and yell. All right. That's what they do when they know,

they don't have a fucking leg to stand on and they know they're wrong. What they then try to do, you know, not all of them and not in every situation. But when they're not going to be an adult and just say, you know what, you're right. I'm being fucking crazy right now. I apologize.

Okay. When they're not going to take that adult route, what they then do is they just push your buttons and they just try to make you mad and they just keep pushing you and pushing it and pushing it and pushing it until you then flip out and say something fucking crazy. Like, well, if you don't like it,

then why don't you get the fuck out? And then they flip out. All right. So what you got to do is in the future, is you just don't take the bait. You got to recognize, you know, they're doing, they're doing the fucking Dennis Rodman thing to you.

They're baiting you into a penalty. That's all they're doing. Okay. And the ref always sees the retaliation. That's basically, it's the same fucking thing. So in the future, just don't get mad. It will drive them up the fucking wall and you won't believe the amount of arguments

you're going to start winning. Because in their effort to piss you off, they're going to cross like 10 of the lines. All right. Now, when they cross 10 of the lines, if you take the bait and then go even further down the road, that's all that's remembered in the end. As you then try and piece together who said what, when.

But if they go, if they cross 10 lines and you don't take the bait, they had 10 lines beyond where the fuck they should be. And you got them dead to rights. You just have to maintain your fucking cool. Now, getting back to this other shit is you do not owe her a fucking apology. All right.

It's absolutely fucking ridiculous. It's absolutely childish. And you can't as an adult expect somebody to not hit you if you're hitting them. All right. She's basically asking you to extend a common human to human courtesy that she's not extending to you.

So she can go fuck herself. You definitely, I don't know if you made the right move. Now, I don't know if you walk around calling her a bitch and that type of thing. This is you just trying to be a tough guy going, then this bitch said this and this, you know, this bitch said that. That's another thing.

Don't go around calling her bitches because that just kills your argument. Don't ever call them bad names. All right. Just hold your ground. Don't lose your fucking cool and let them go through their whole little fucking histrionics,

trying to get you to take the fucking bait. All right. And as long as in the relationship, you admit when you're wrong and you sincerely apologize, they don't have a fucking leg to stand on when you're right and you're going to start winning arguments and you're going to be happier.

There you go. All right. And other than that, I don't know. Stop dating psychos. All right. Here we go. YouTube videos of the week.

Um, drumming mom kills wipeout. I haven't seen that, but that's a classic drumming song. Uh, an angry kid with both staff. You got to see this kid. I think Bruce Lee came back as a little blonde haired white kid. I don't know what,

but this kid is tapping into Bruce Lee's fighting force. And I'm telling you, you could fucking take over a small country with three kids like this. Um, that's it. Oh, dilemmas real quick. Bill, one, would you rather get your ass kicked by a flaming homosexual male

or a raging bulldike woman? Oh, that's tough. Can I say, can I say both? Cause both would be fucking hilarious. A raging bull, you know what, a raging bulldike woman, that's not as funny as a flaming homosexual man.

If I got like, you know, the Hollywood stereotypes, I apply like, oh my God, I'm going to kick your ass. I would rather have that just because that would be fucking. Now, what am I talking about? Look, for this,

for the, for the hilarity of people around me, I would rather have it be a flaming homosexual male, but for my fucking ego, a raging bulldike woman, because at least I could have the excuse of, well, I didn't want to hit a woman. Didn't want to hit a woman,

you couldn't, you were knocked out, you asshole. And then I could, I could just, you know, I could go into some rant about society. Um, anyways, number two, hey Bill, should I bang my coworker's girlfriend who is allergic to rubbers

and has three baby daddies or remain a 29 year old virgin? All right, that's one's bullshit. That doesn't exist. If you're a 29 year old virgin, you don't know how to get fucking laid and you would never have that fucking conversation with somebody,

pre-sex, you know, talking about condoms. Um, so I'm not even going to answer that one, but just in case it's true, should I bang my coworker's girlfriend? No, you shouldn't bang your coworker's girlfriend, you're fucking with your ability

to have a job, pay your bills, and eat. Who's allergic to rubbers? No, you don't want to get, okay, you're going to get some gentle awards out of that. That, that'll be the least of your fucking problems. Or remain a 29 year old virgin. Remain a 29 year old virgin, sir. Why don't you go to 29yearoldvirgin.com

and find some other 29 year old virgin and you guys put on fucking raincoats and have at it. Why don't you do that? All right, that really wasn't a dilemma. That was more advice. That's the podcast for this week. Happy new year, everybody.

And like I said, if you want to go to amazon.com, if you're going to buy some, please go through my website, click on the merchandise button, click on, then click on the Amazon thing. You'll give me some money for the podcast. You'll donate to the podcast and 10% of it goes to the wounded warriors project.

And that's it. That is the podcast. You know what's I haven't done a long time. I haven't hyped any of my fucking dates. Let's see. Where's old Billy fat face going to be? Oh, I just belched. I got fucking a hot bird.

Um, events. I am going to be the next states. I have January 20th. I'm going to be at the house of blues in Houston, Texas. January 21st. I'm going to be at the Paramount Theater in Austin, Texas. And then we're into February, February. I'll be in Charlotte, North Carolina, Alabama, Birmingham.

And Atlanta, Georgia. That's like the week of February 8th. I'm going to get those dates up today. Hopefully if my agent is back from fucking vacation, I'll get the actual dates, which he already gave me and I fucked up. And after that, I'll be February 17th at the Fox Theater in Connecticut, Fox Woods,

and the Bergen PAC Center in Inglewood, New Jersey. Theater at Westbury, Westbury, New York. Look at that. Look at that. Oh, and there it is Lincoln, Lincoln Theater. Lincoln Theater. I actually already have it up March 3rd, Washington, DC. That's where I'm taping my special.

The secret is out. That's it. That's the podcast for this week. Go fuck yourselves. Don't take any shit. Happy goddamn New Year. Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

The other colors are white. Sweet. God, that's lame. I'll make you lose my life. I'll show you what I've got to lose this time. You You You

You