#0318 - Australia Has a Fatberg and Poo Balls - 02/27/2026

This episode opens like a man standing at the edge of sanity, staring into a bottomless laundry abyss. Our fearless host is one unfolded sock away from total psychological collapse. It’s Friday. He’s vibrating with weekend energy. He wants rest. He wants peace. Instead, he gets a sentient pile of laundry that refuses to shrink no matter how much fabric he sacrifices to the washing machine gods. This is not a house. This is a textile-based horror franchise.

But wait. There’s a bigger demon lurking.

Resident Evil 9.

The game drops. The earth trembles. Wallets everywhere begin to sweat. He spirals instantly into a moral crisis about physical vs. digital copies like a medieval scholar debating scripture. He WILL NOT go digital. He REFUSES. You can’t trade a digital copy. You can’t loan it to a friend. You can’t cradle it lovingly in your hands like a sacred horror relic. And when Best Buy says “Pickup Unavailable”? That’s not inventory — that’s betrayal.

We spiral through store locators, caffeine deficiency, and early-morning cognitive decline as he rage-clicks through Idaho Falls retail options like a man hunting cryptids. Finally: Target. Four copies left. FOUR. This is not shopping. This is survival horror.

Then we pivot violently into petty relationship dealbreakers from the internet. Too many things in pockets? Donkey laugh? Warm drinks? Cilantro? The man reflects on his own bulky wallet trauma and stage-introduction humiliation. Somewhere out there, a musician with too many pocket items is single because love could not withstand cargo capacity.

Next: horror movies.

A declaration detonates across Facebook — Hereditary has been crowned the greatest horror film of the 21st century. Is this verified? No. Is it spiritually correct? Possibly. He defends it like it’s a family member. Ari Aster is hailed as a slow-burn deity. Midsommar gets praise. The Witch sparks domestic warfare. A caller declares it sucks. He threatens a three-hour director’s cut retaliation. This is cinema combat.

Then the show descends into beautifully chaotic freak news:

• Spotify x Liquid Death launching urn Bluetooth speakers so you can DJ from beyond the grave.
• Australian sewer fatbergs birthing sewage beach orbs.
• A Georgia kid almost getting sent to school with a canned lemon drop martini.
• Burger King installing AI headset surveillance so employees must say “Welcome to Burger King” or perish in the algorithmic friendliness audit.

Somewhere between poo balls and corporate micromanagement, we find ourselves debating relationship etiquette again. A man shamed for eating breakfast. A husband wanting his wife to “dress up at home.” The host delivers a surprisingly wholesome rant: let people eat burgers. Let people wear baggy clothes. Stop treating humans like customizable NPC skins.

All the while, caffeine levels fluctuate dangerously. Tool’s music is invoked like a sacred ritual. Traffic School with Lieutenant Crain charges forward. The workday crawls. The weekend looms. The horror marathon awaits.

Laundry remains undefeated.

Resident Evil 9 is secured.

Society may not survive.