I don’t understand Oscar season.
As an anxiety-riddled, hyperventilating-mess, the glands in my brain-pipes often don’t work well enough for me to understand much. But I’m sure, even after a fresh dump, a jettisoned load, and my favorite strain of THC, I still wouldn’t understand Awards season.
I get watching a bunch of people sucking one another off. Covering each other in fluids and fantasy, moaning and churning against one another, hoping for the big finish to end up in their hands.
But, I still don’t understand Oscar season.
Or, maybe it’s that I understand Oscar season. And I hate it.
The latest descent into adolescent sophistry, scatalogical humor, and irredeemable buffoonery is upon you, folks. Gnash your teeth at The God That Forgot You and curse It for allowing us to continue our podcast.
This latest iteration covers a typical gamut of garbage.
Feauring such topics as “Eating only broccoli that women have farted on” and “Hipster Or Homeless? should be a game show.”
If that hasn’t sent you away, we also mock both Liberals and Trumpers, have half-hearted conversations about Doctor Strange and Arrival, and psychoanalyze Bateman’s childhood pants-shitting and subsequent life-long catastrophic psychological trauma.
We hope you’ll join us!