Other Podcasts, Fat White Women, and a PSA

Hi kids, I'm Lorenzo and welcome to Mission Throat Radio, where we play near.

I don't know whether your mom blew George straight or not but I feel like there's a decent chance she probably did.

Mission Throat Radio starts now!

So I did something a day that I don't normally do and when I say I don't normally do it I mean like I don't think I've ever done it.

I went cruising the ample charts looking for the top comedy podcasts in America right now.

And there were some names on there that were not unfamiliar like Amy Polar from Saturday Night Live has her own podcast.

Joe Rogan of course shows up under the comedy.

Heading, I'm not sure I would classify what he does as comedy but okay whatever.

The O'Von has a conversational comedy type podcast.

There's a podcast out there from Jason Bateman, the flamboyantly gay guy off of Will & Grace

and the guy who's Kristen Bell's baby daddy.

But I may be wrong on that too, I don't know that a lot of those guys kind of look alike.

And then I saw the bad friends podcast that's the really wise ass fucking pasty little ginger dude and the Asian guy that he shits on all day.

And then I saw a podcast called comedy bang bang or comedy comedy gang bang or bang gang or comedy something and then either bang or gang and then alternate those words once or twice or maybe the same fucking word again.

I don't know comedy. Let's just call it comedy comedy gang bang.

You fucking I'm gonna get this wrong. Let me look it up. No, it's comedy bang bang.

And as it turns out, it's not what I thought it was gonna be. I thought it was gonna be well funny.

Hold on. No, I thought it was going to be something other than what it was.

What it turned out to be was a conversational type show within accomplished comedian and then the host who I'm assuming has a background in comedy but I don't really fucking know because I didn't research it.

I don't care enough.

And I thought to myself, I like Sarah Silverman. Let's check this out because she was the guest or I should say I have liked Sarah Silverman about that.

So what I ended up finding when I clicked on the link and started listening to the episode was a snappy little quirky musical type show opener.

I'm gonna recreate that right now.

Comedy Gang Bang, Comedy Gang Bang, gang Bang Gang Bang Gang Bang, Gang Bang, Gang Bang Bang Bang Bang Gang Gang Gang Kang Gang Gang Gang Gang Gang Gang and then the host came on.

And I can't remember if he did an ad right off the comp or or what he did there but it didn't seem his content.

But again, it was kind of hard to follow because I was still reeling from the weird fucking show opener and then he brought on the guest.

So my dramatic reenactment goes as follows.

Comedy, comedy, comedy, comedy, comedy,

as it turns out, comedy, comedy, comedy, and comedy.

Now Sarah Silverman.

Sarah, you've been on the comedy,

bang gang podcast about 12 times now.

How does it make you feel?

Fucking, I hate magicians.

Still hate magicians, comedy, comedy.

Comedy, and comedy, comedy, comedy,

ish, comedy, comedy, and comedy, Sarah Silverman.

Ah, fucking, I hate magicians.

Comedy, comedy, and comedy.

And that was basically it.

That was the podcast in a nutshell.

So I'm thinking to myself, what the fuck am I even doing here?

This is in the top 15, top 20 of your Apple podcast,

comedy, section, charts.

What am I even doing?

How am I to compete with scary talent,

like whatever the fuck that guy's name is,

who just says comedy a bunch and then laughs.

How the fuck am I going to compete with?

Sarah Silverman is the most disinterested guest I've ever heard,

and she just fucking hates magicians.

How can I compete with that?

How can I hold my own against scary fucking talent of that caliber?

How can I hold my own against Jason Bateman and the really, really gay guy from Will & Grace?

And I think to myself, maybe this medium is not for me.

Maybe my brand of comedy is not going to fucking fly

with the lame guns that are listening and enjoying shows like those.

Where are all the fucking talented people?

That's what I want to know.

These guys are fucking clowns.

Where did all the talented people go?

Like where's Jim Norton?

Jim Norton was fucking hilarious.

I know Patrice O'Neill died.

Anthony Kumia is actually back doing real radio now or something like that.

Howard Stern is 112 and hasn't been funny in 20 years.

But where's the fucking talent?

They have to exist.

Oh my god.

Oh my fucking head.

How am I trying to break into a medium that is completely ran by some of the most unfunny

motherfuckers in history?

In order to be fucking successful in podcasting, to quote Adam Corolla in a roundabout way,

in order to be successful in podcasting, first step is just be fucking famous already.

Fuck me.

What am I doing?

So like in order to break through all the fucking noise,

and elevate myself to the top of the fucking Apple charts,

I have to be nine times funnier than anything that they do.

If one of these fucking hack podcasts, but by one of these moderately fucking famous people,

if they decide to do ju-humor, I have to do the juiest ju-humor of all time.

If they decide to do dick jokes, I have to craft the dick jokes that are so groundbreaking

that they can't possibly fucking go unnoticed.

I have to be absolutely flawless to even elevate myself in the charts.

One, two positions.

Fucking hell.

Oh my god.

What the fuck have I undertaken here?

Why do I have to fucking excel?

See, that's the thing.

There's four million active podcasts out there.

And three point seven, five million of them are just people,

meatballs who work fucking change in tires or work down at fucking jiffy,

Lube and they sit down in their basement and they dick around on the fucking

microphone and they have a podcast that 48 of their fucking best friends listen to and they're

just fucking happy as shit with that.

Why do I have to be competitive?

Why do I feel like I have to fucking compete with the guy who's banging Kristen

Bell or whatever the fucker name is.

Oh my god.

Fuck me.

I can't fucking do it.

That's the thing.

I can't just fucking do a podcast and hope that five to ten fucking people a week find it.

I have to be the fucking best at this or I'm going to go fucking crazy.

I should have never looked.

I should have never looked at those fucking charts.

I should have never looked at those charts.

I should have just assumed that everyone at the top of the fucking comedy charts was doing

for really groundbreaking awesome shit.

The fact that I've looked now is totally fucked me up.

Oh my god.

Oh fuck me.

How am I going to compete with this fucking.

Fucking scary talent.

These motherfuckers sitting in the room just doing nothing for fucking two hours at a time.

Not even chuckleworthy in the fucking comedy category.

Oh fuck.

What would Jesus do?

That's what I need to ask myself.

What would Jesus do here?

Jesus.

Jesus would pray.

Okay.

Fold your fucking hands.

Let's pray.

Dear Lord, in your divine wisdom,

in your divine countenance, I don't know what that word means, but I feel like countenance is a

word that you say when you're praying.

In your divine countenance, please shine down upon me with your blessings and give me a

sense of direction in order to defeat and utterly destroy the fucking Philistines

that are every one other than me on the comedy charts in the podcast world.

They have blasphemed you, oh Lord, by doing unfunny shit constantly and every day,

and they're making a fairly decent living or at least supplementing their already outstanding

income by doing mediocre stuff.

Please let the public at large realize that they're being hoodwinked into thinking that what they're

getting is comedy when in all actuality, it's just fucking mindless drivel.

Oh, and please, if you would send your angels to shower the person who invented the idea of

comedy bang, bang, shower them with the gift of cancer, that would be absolutely amazing.

Oh Lord, in your mercy.

Fuck.

Normally I feel better after I pray, but I don't feel better after that prayer at all.

God damn it.

Oh, I'm crashing out.

Show her me with your divine countenance, O Lord, and please don't forget the cancer on the

comedy bang, bang guy in your divine mercy. Amen.

Segment 2.

Now let me qualify that statement.

I'm not talking about the my fucking 700 pound life sassy fat white women.

No, they're truly hateable as well, but for different reasons.

They're an eye sore.

You know what I mean?

They should only be allowed out at night because they fucking lower property values just being

out during the day.

Amorbidly fucking OB 700 pound fat white woman actually has the ability to destroy local

businesses and annihilate a local economy.

They're hateable, but on a socioeconomic level.

What I'm talking about today is the sassy fat white woman who comes in at a solid weight range of

225 to 400.

The ones who can get around.

The ones who don't need help from everyone around them.

The ones who aren't necessarily draining society's resources.

You know the ones I'm talking about.

The ones who have the fucking handicap.

Thing that hangs on their rear view mirror that they only use when they can't find a better parking spot.

Those sassy fat white women.

I hate them.

I fucking hate them.

They're the fucking worst.

This got started because I was at the grocery store yesterday.

I think it was.

And I was standing there.

Yeah, it's we was yesterday.

I was standing there in line waiting to pay for my corn.

I would Pin Nuts.

I would Pin Nuts.

I would Pin Nuts.

I would Pin Nuts.

I would Pin N She's.

In the top right.

I don't have any problem with you watching the stuff that's going over the scanner to make

sure you're not getting screwed, but the way she was doing it was different, and I'm

sure you know what I'm talking about.

She was standing there, almost leaning forward, her fucking gunt, rubbing against the fucking

conveyor, her tiny little fucking hands with the age spots, and perfectly manicured nails,

opening and closing, waiting for her opportunity to fucking spring forward and be a cunt,

her fucking little T-Rex arms undulating softly, like a coiled spring, ready to fucking

leap into action at a moment's notice.

And have you ever noticed, like really fucking sassy fat white women always have really small

feet?

They'll have these fucking enormous goddamn hands for legs, and somehow managed to have

no ass, but an enormous gunt hanging off the front of them.

Do you know what a gunt is?

A gunt is where it's a belly pooch that is going completely off the rails.

It starts just below their tits, and it comes out like a fucking beach ball, and it ends

at the apex of their thighs with no discernible difference, with no discernible markable line,

from where the gut ends and the pussy begins.

That's a gunt, so they'll have this enormous gunt on the front of them, and then it's

just like fucking flat on the back.

I don't know how the fuck they do it, they have these enormous hands, tiny little fucking

size four feet, this gigantic gunt, but then the backside,, you can lay a fucking level

against it and the bubble wouldn't even fucking flinch.

Oh, back around front though, I forgot, I'll push up braw, 100% of the time, because

at some point, some fucking fat woman figured out that if you take your gigantic fucking fat

bags and you fucking pour them into a fucking push up braw, they will take the form

of whatever you fucking pour them into, and you have them all in these fucking giant disgusting,

fucking frog face fat nasty fucking cons.

100% of the time have their fucking tits right up by their chin.

Always a low-

from 25 years ago.

Anyway, I'm getting off subject here.

Fucking standard issue, sassy fat white woman, physique is what I was trying to say.

I didn't even got to the fucking head yet, the fucking nasty frog face and the fucking

turned down mouth and the fucking pig like snout and the fucking beady, shifty, fucking

dishonest eyes.

Always looking for a deal, always looking for a way to fuck the system, always looking

for someone to fucking break.

And then the hair color is one of two.

100% of the time, it is one of these two hair colors.

It's that fucking really obnoxious sassy fat white woman maroon color, typically barely

shoulder length and shaped into a roughly reminiscent Darth Vader type helmet with bangs

and a side part or same hairstyle and dark hair with flex of gray.

Oh, forgot the eyeglasses.

The eyeglasses usually buy focals, not transitions lenses, you know, to where they're buy focals,

but you don't have the line, no, they have the fucking, and it's the fucking late 80s early

90s gigantic round rims with the multi colored pattern because you know, they have to be stylish.

Anyway, the sassy fat white woman I just described, who is incidentally the fucking prototype

for any and all sassy fat white women everywhere.

Stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason.

I'm sure if you listen to this podcast long enough as we go along, I'm gonna hit some

fucking stereotypes that you're not gonna appreciate, but fuck you.

Stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason.

Anyway, she was just standing there and she could not fucking wait for something to go

wrong.

She couldn't fucking wait.

You could read it every fucking bit of her body language was screaming danger.

Don't approach danger.

Don't approach danger.

Don't interact.

And as the scanning went on her fucking henpecked beat down just getting through it

fucking husband was inching further and further away from her walking down and choosing to

bag his own groceries just to put some fucking distance between himself and Loreta the sassy

fat white woman.

And finally it happened.

She couldn't contain herself any longer.

Whether it was because the cashier didn't make eye contact whether it was because the

cashier didn't stop what they were doing to scroll up and look on the fucking register

tape or whether it was that the cashier just casually dismissed her whatever it was that

set Loreta off it was always going to happen because sassy fat fucking white women can't

do anything without causing a fucking problem somewhere.

And Loreta flipped her shit.

Was her name actually Loreta I don't know but more often than not the sassy fat white woman

is named Loreta you ever notice that her husband's gaze drops down to the paper sack he is

dutifully stowing their fucking groceries into.

Cowering with a little bit of fear because Loreta broke him long ago.

Loreta killed his will to live years and years ago so now she's on the prowl for someone

else to kill.

Anyone.

Story one.

She flew completely off the handle started yelling waving her fucking T-Rex arms around wildly

her billfold went flying across the fucking counter screaming at her husband interject and go

find the fucking manager screaming across the store that she needs the fucking manager

there right now in the cashier to her credit didn't even break stride just kept on scanning

which only incensed Loreta even further alternating shifting her weight back and forth in

those fucking pinchy size four shoes her fucking overburdened knees bending and straightening

and bending and straightening as Loreta is flinging her fucking voice in her arms all over

the place.

Loreta's a force to be reckoned with Loreta's not someone you want to trifle with do

you want to know why Loreta is a standard issue sassy fucking fat white woman.

She even turned and looked at me at one point after she had ran her husband off in the cashier

didn't seem to care.

The manager was scurrying across the front hadn't quite got there yet she wheeled and turned

and looked at me looking for validation she got no such thing.

I just stared dead eyed back in that frog like fucking face with the red spider broken

blood vessels all over her fucking nose and just waited for her to say something.

The manager finally got there scurrying up to his cashier side making sure to keep the

conveyor table between him and Loreta the destroyer and Loreta proceeded to lay into him and

tell him that she's never been treated so badly in all her life this place is a complete

shit hole it's a joke.

She doesn't understand by when she has a legitimate concern about the amount of money

she's being charged the cashier won't even look her way because you know Loreta can't

stand to be dismissed.

The manager made all of the necessary platitudes offered a fucking coupon Loreta seemed

to mollified in the transaction commenced.

But that incident with Loreta got me thinking about all of the sassy fat white women I've

fucking hated throughout the course of my life and the common traits that they've all

shared.

They all refer to themselves as something other than what they are.

Proof tops know they instead refer to themselves as the luxuous or luscious or curvaceous.

They refer to themselves as busty or if you get one who has a little bit as fun in them

they will say that they are a plus size princess.

They are almost universally entitled regardless of race color or creed and they're always

dragging some fucking dude around behind him who looks like he's just waiting to die.

I find myself thinking about the men more than anything else what it must be like to

have to live with Loreta.

That poor bastard and I made eye contact a couple times throughout Loreta's meltdown and

you could see it was a pleading look and then a defiant look and then a look of resignation.

Without words what he told me in those moments was I wish they'd just give her what she wanted.

Then yes this cut belongs to me and then finally at least you don't have to go home with

her.

What's that got to be like?

What's his fucking day like?

What's his day like?

What's his fucking day like?

Because can you imagine what it's like to have to get in the fucking car with Loreta after

an incident like that?

Loreta's not done?

No, she's kicking ass for the rest of the day.

Fucking sassy fat white women goddamn.

They fuck everything up.

You know I don't have any interest in doing any kind of interview time podcast but I would

like to sit down across from Loreta, the sassy fat white woman and really get into her head

and see what makes her tick.

I would try to charm her I think.

I think that that would be my my tactic.

I would sit down across from Loreta and I would really turn on the charm just to see

if I could get Loreta to want me.

Oh my god.

I'm not fucking awful idea.

Oh, can you imagine Loreta the sassy fat white woman in fucking seduction mode?

Oh my god.

I just a Jesus Christ.

What does fucking gigantic fucking ship sail bloomers she calls panties?

Sat in I'm sure.

With the absorbent cotton patch at the bottom fuck.

Oh.

Sitting there in front of me in full seduction mode.

This pussy so good if you throw it in the air and turn into sunshine.

Don't worry about it honey.

I brought my own flowers so you can find the wet spot.

I know I'm not a looker but in my bag I got me an American flag you can wrap it around

my head and fuck me for old glory.

I feel sorry for that motherfucker.

It's got to go home with her.

Anyway, I just had to recount my encounter with fucking Loreta the sassy fat white woman

onto the next segment.

Segment three.

Public service announcement here from Missing Throat Radio.

In the introduction to this episode of Missing Throat Radio, I did kind of a play on the

old fucking Sesame Street, you know, near far shit like that.

And I said story time was going to be about the time your mom went fucking blue George

Strait and then went home and kissed your dad on the mouth.

Obviously, I'm saying that in chest.

I don't know if your mom gurgled fucking George Strait or not.

But would she?

That's the fucking question.

I don't know how to say this.

I actually took copious notes of everything that came into my head on this subject because

I don't know how to talk about it.

But I know that I don't want to come at it from the angle that like Jordan Peterson would

come at it or that fucking weird tape guys is he in Romania, is he in the States, is he

in prison?

I don't fucking know.

Like nobody knows where he is or what he's doing.

I'm not going to say that this section is not going to have a bit of a misogynistic

tint.

It's just because as it turns out, I'm a dude and I have been all my life.

So I'm going to be talking to other men here.

So I'm just going to fucking start out and just say it.

Stop worrying about chicks, stop chasing chicks, stop trying to hold on to chicks and

just fucking produce.

I truly believe that every man has the ability to innovate and change the world around him

in one way or another.

Everyone has the ability to change the fucking world around them in one way or another.

But men get caught up.

And most of the time when they get caught up, it's because of some fucking female.

Okay, let's try it like this.

In my opinion, and this is my uneducated fucking 700 foot view

of the situation, never going to meet any of these people opinion.

In my opinion, what do Steve Jobs, Jeff Bezos, Bezos?

I'm going to say Bezos because I feel like that's how you say his name.

But it fucking might be Bezos.

I don't know.

What do Steve Jobs, Jeff Bezos, Elon Musk and Mark Zuckerberg all have in common at the age

of 18?

When they were all the age of 18, what did they have in common?

Well, they were white, so you can throw that in there.

But what else?

What's the defining factor?

What is the one thing that binds them together at the age of 18?

They were all weird, unfuckable dudes.

It's like, okay, yeah, Elon Musk right now is rolling in pussy.

Have you seen Ashley St. Clair?

Jesus, Harold,

Christ, Christ on a rubber crutch.

Shockingly hot-hot, right?

so what do you

movie which is fucked

at the base at his a core. What's the difference between you and Mark Zuckerberg? Well, at the time in his life when Mark Zuckerberg was unfuckable, he applied his fucking ability and changed the world. And that's what I want to talk to you about today. Stop chasing chicks and fucking be splendid.

and holding on tight and trying to be everything that that female needs you to be with the knowledge that simply trying to be everything she needs you to be will only make her fucking hate you for it. It's a really shitty feeling. And I see so many guys out in my community who are in the fucking grips of that. Well, coming from

now, stop focusing on her, stop focusing

to do something fucking outstanding. You have the ability everyone has the ability to innovate

and create and build and do amazing shit in their own, way.

Am I saying that fucking chuck the meatball down at jiffy lube has the ability to be the next

Mark Zuckerberg? I don't suppose it's outside of their own possibilities, but probably

not. However, chuck the fucking meatball down at jiffy lube may rattling around in his

brain have have an idea about how to revolutionize the fucking efficiency of the internal combustion

engine. He looks up into engines all day long while changing that fucking oil. He has the

ability to create, build, execute, and be fucking splendid. So what I'm telling you to do is shut

the fuck up and produce. Stop throwing money at only fans bitches. Get out of your fucking house

and do amazing shit. Get out of your own way. I truly believe the human mind wakes up every morning

primed and ready to fucking perform. So do it already. Stop chasing pussy. Stop trying to be

everything she fucking needs and wants. She will resent you for holding her to a fucking standard.

So fucking stop it. Stop pouring all of your energy into a chick is just gonna blow George straight

and then come home and kiss you on the mouth. Produce. Think. Create. Build. Change the fucking world. And if

you're supposed to find somebody to share your newly found direction with, you will. But in the

meantime do the work. Grind. Innovate. Don't let fucking people tell you that your ideas are outlandish.

I'm 49 years old. And it's taken me almost that entire time to realize that if I continue trying to be

everything that everybody needs me to be, I'm never gonna be who I need me to be. That's why I started

this podcast. That's why I'm going all in because I know that this is what I can do to change the world.

This fucking stupid idiotic little podcasting thing is what I can do. I have the ability to sit down

behind a microphone and dream up outlandish crazy shit in order to be entertaining and maybe even

occasionally instructive for people in the world. I have the ability to rise to the top of the

Apple charts. I know that. I know that I have the ability to do so and God damn it. That's what I'm

focused on. Where does your ability take you? What are your talents? Where do your fucking talents lie?

Stop being a fucking meatball and go find it. And like I said earlier, stop focusing on chicks. Stop it.

It's fucking not it's fucking not productive. Do you want to attract a top quality woman? Focus on

s on yourself, realizing your goals, achieving the shit that you're setting out to do get

your life together. And if you're meant to find a chick to share this new direction with, you will.

And in the meantime, there's prostitutes, dental hygienists, nurses and waitresses. They provide a

vinyl public service. Use them and throw them away. It's what they expect you to do to them anyway.

And I think that any females would hear that last statement and go,

you motherfucker, but in a moment of fucking stark honesty. Most women situationally are perfectly

fine with being used and tossed aside. And if you don't believe me or if you're saying bullshit,

that's not true, how did Wilk Chamberlain sleep with 10,000 women? How did Tiger Woods rack up a

body count of several hundred while married to that Elon chick? Women are genetically and biologically

predisposed to throw pussy at the best quality person that they can find. Call it instinct.

If Rob Gronkowski shows up in your town, fucking hide your wives.

Because they're all gonna throw pussy at him. He's a genetic abnormality. He's a fucking freaking

nature. And women are more than happy to be host to the best possible set of genes.

But why are you spending your time pining over a woman who will fucking blow Vince Neil?

At a fucking Motley crew reunion show and then walk back in the house you paid for and kiss you

right on the mouth with zero guilt. Understand it? Accept that it's a fact of life. They're genetically

programmed to never 100% be faithful forever. You're only good enough until you're not good enough

anymore. Stop wasting the energy that you could be devoting to building, creating, and changing the

fucking world. Stop wasting your energy on that fucking broad. Give it a fucking rest bro because

she's only with you because you were the best option available at the time. You were the big fish

in the small pond. Let that pond get a little bit bigger. Let her situation or ability level or

education level change. And all of a sudden you're not good enough anymore. You were her entire

world and now you're a meatball. Stop fucking focusing on these broads. She's only with you because

you served the purpose that she required at the time. I'm not telling you to drop her on her ass.

What I'm telling you to do is stop fucking focusing on her. Stop chasing around behind her and

pouring your fucking heart and soul into trying to be everything she needs. Stop wasting fucking

energy on that shit and produce, grind, create, build. Anyway that's all I wanted to say.

Trying to refocus the fucking men of planet earth onto things that actually matter. I hope you

enjoyed this episode of Misenthrough Radio. Leave a review, tell a friend, you know, the usual shit.

Until next time.