Missin' Thrope, Radio!
Pissie, piss-mongering, fucking piss-pot of the damned.
Missin' Thrope, Radio!
International cream-corn fuck-hedory!
Missin' Thrope, Radio!
Simply a dirty Jew!
Missin' Thrope, Radio!
And as the young man knew full well,
Chicken-fried steak couldn't fuck back.
All it could do was be delicious.
Missin' Thrope, Radio starts now!
Welcome to episode 10 of Missin' Thrope, Radio!
I've really been struggling with this week's episode.
And it's not that I'm doing any kind of fucking super-sensitive subject matter,
or anything like that.
I've been struggling with my own motivation.
Odd, right?
As focused as I am on trying to turn Missin' Thrope, Radio into a quality fucking podcast,
sometimes I have motivational issues.
And it's entirely due to environmental factors.
For example, if I have a lot going on at work,
or I have a lot on my mind,
it can totally fuck with my motivation and ability to actually sit down behind this stupid fucking microphone
and be as stupid and ridiculous as I need to be,
in order to turn out one of these fucking dog shit episodes.
And if you're a podcaster,
you're probably sitting out there right now going,
Jesus Christ, bro.
You're only on episode 10,
it's only gonna get harder from here.
I'm on episode 466.
Don't you think I have these same problems?
Well, no, I don't.
Okay, Uncle Chucklefuck, I don't.
You run an interview podcast,
so all you have to fucking do is sit down in front of somebody,
ask a few and aane questions, and let them fucking talk.
This is a little bit different.
I'm working with a blank canvas every week.
And while I love it, and would have it no other way,
sometimes shit gets in the way of the fucking creative process.
Well, this week is one of those times.
It's just not coming together for me.
Having said that, when I run into instances like this
where I'm having a difficult time fucking put in an episode together,
I always refer back to what got me interested in doing
Missing Throat Radio 2.0 in the first fucking place.
I was having a real difficult time with people
and I was fucking stagnating at the job.
And I was really considering pouring my fucking energy into work
and then I changed my
How many people can say they've been to the Harvard Commencement Ceremony?
I want to buy a sweatshirt.
It could be fucking awesome.
Well, as it turns out
it was just a lot of fucking driving because I flatly refused to fly anymore.
And the lobster roll was underwhelming.
However, what I saw at the Harvard Commencement Ceremony inspired me.
And it inspired me in a way that I didn't see coming.
It inspired me to absolutely fucking lean into this podcasting thing and go for fucking
broke and try to make it into something that honestly I don't know if it's even possible
to do anymore.
I use this number all the time with 7 million fucking podcasts out there in the ether.
How does somebody like me and independent dude sitting in his fucking basement break through
all the fucking noise?
And that was one of the things that helped kill OG Miss and Throat Radio and it helped
kill unmoderated.
And Lorenzo Reads never got off the fucking ground.
And now here we are today.
But that fucking commencement speech, god damn.
That fucking commencement speech by their guest speaker was life changing for me.
Anyway, I don't know if anybody else was affected by the commencement speech like I
was.
But I happen to be recording that here and I'm going to play it for you right now.
If you're one of those people that allows environmental factors or work factors or people
fucking factors affect your motivation and you know what, that's not even accurate.
It doesn't just affect my motivation if I consume too much of the news cycle.
If I consume too much sports radio.
If I'm exposed to too many bad podcasts.
If I have too many things flying at me at the work job.
If I have a bunch of fucking shit going on in my personal life.
I think it literally that combined amalgamation of fuck shitting us has the ability to
flip off the fucking creative center in my brain.
And then when it comes time to sit down behind the microphone from isn't through a
radio, I just stare at the fucking computer screen like a goddamn retard.
I'm off on a fucking tangent.
I'm going to play for you now the commencement speech from the 2025 Harvard graduation
ceremony.
And I hope it does for you what it does for me.
And that is first of all, it inspired me to sit down behind the mic and fucking really
lean into missing throw per two point.
Oh, and it has the ability not all the time, but it has the ability when I've had too
many fucking outside external factors weighing on my fucking brain throughout the week.
This commencement speech has the ability to pull me back and help me to focus on shit
that matters to me, which is missing throw per radio to point.
All right.
Let's go ahead and play it.
Welcome class of 2025.
Our guest speaker needs no introduction, but I'm going to introduce him anyway, giving
this year's Harvard graduation commencement speech, galactic emperor, dark lord of the
sith, and honorary doctorate degree holder, emperor palpatine.
New weekend models.
Behold your emperor.
You the Harvard class of 2025.
Stand before me quivering on the brink of eternity.
Shabban by the crucible of this decaying shrine to mortal ambition.
I am dark cities, dark lord of the sith.
Weaver of chaos and our detective empires that span the stars.
I'm there to meet my gaze in your eyes.
I see it, a hunger, a spark of mass, a will to crush.
Today I do not merely speak to you, I command you to unleash the darkness within and carve
your names into the galaxy's bleeding heart.
You are seen in the shadows of these ivy-chilt halls, hone your mind in whiteness grits, and survive
the crucible of Harvard's trials.
You are a mere sculler.
You are predators forged to rend the weaker sander.
The galaxy trembles at your potential, and I am here to ignite it.
Eat my words and lords, for I offer you the unhealing truth of power.
Staying with the blood of those two febble to claim it.
First, power is seized in the ashes of the fallen.
The galaxy does not kneel till degrees or your fragile ideals.
Power is not granted, it is ripped from the throats of those who cling to it.
Intellect, you're cunning, you will, these are blades to sever the unworthy from their throats.
In boardrooms, laboratories or scents, you must strike without hesitation.
Let the corpses of your rivals be they dreams, repetitions or flesh,
pave the path to your ascendancy.
Second, betrayal is your sharpest weapon.
Allies, colleagues, pray, I say.
The connections you forged here, your societies, your networks are but stepping stones to your dominion.
Use them, drain their strength, and when their usefulness fades, let their end be swift.
A well placed betrayal is a work of art, a silent blade that cuts deeper than any sword.
I have ended apprentices who dared to falter, so too must you sever those who bind you.
Let their phoen be a warning, non-stand equal to your will.
The galaxy bows only to those who walk alone, their hands stained with the blood of victory.
I can't give this speech with that crying child over there.
Mother, stand with your child in your arms.
Destiny is written in blood.
The weak bleed of purpose or service is life, a cattle.
You forge your destiny by breaking the chains of the Old Roar.
You're not here to heal this world.
You're here to remake it in your image, whether you shatter markets, unravel the cosmos or crash nations.
Your path will be littered with the corpses of those who dare to oppose you.
The end is your beginning, as I orchestrated the annihilation of the jack and the rise of an empire,
so too must you orchestrate the demise of all who block your assent.
Let their screams of pain and dying fuel your resolve, for power is sweetest with drips with sacrifice.
And the rules of this world, the so-called virtuous one was the restraint of compassion, of balance.
Pathetic, the dark side, may the truth is found in the un-relenting will to dominate.
Compassion is a mousse, restraint, a tomb.
Harvard has armed you to tear down the weak, to bury the hesitant, to extinguish the unworthy.
Do not flinch from the act, a single stroke, a single choice,
and silence arrival forever, be at the voice, their influence or their breath.
Finally, as you stepped forward from this crumbling relic of mortal fatty,
know this, the galaxy watches. Your actions will ripple through the stars, breaking worlds,
ending lives, forging legends. Will you be a feeding shadow, consumed by the light of lesser beans,
or will you be a madistrum, a force that drowns the cosmos in your wrath?
I sense unlimited power within you, pulsing like a heart ready to burst.
Go for class of 2025, unleash your theory, carve your destiny in the bones of your enemies,
let the galaxy choke on your name, the dark side demands it, rise my satellites, rise, and kill.
Does that fucking speech not make you want to just get up and go out and fucking achieve something?
I heard that fucking speech and I came back home and I was just motivated to win at anything.
Longmoing, whatever, whenever, however, I knew I was going to fucking succeed from listening to
Emperor Palpatine give that speech. It was life changing, and the Harvard Commencement speech
done by Emperor Palpatine was the catalyst that drove me to start,
Missing Throwbredio 2.0 anyway, I hope you enjoyed it onto the next segment.
Incidentally and somewhat related to the subject matter of the first bit of this episode,
and it's not something that I've ever admitted to anyone, I'm not even sure I should do it now,
what's the worst that can happen, right? I'm just going to go ahead and sit here for a moment and
bear my fucking soul to you and hope that you will not hold it against me or think ill of me or
any more ill of me than you already do. But ultimately podcasting what makes podcasting better than
radio is that we can just be real, right? Like we can be honest with who we are, and you know you
as a person who's chosen to download this episode to listen, can either fucking take it or leave it
it with no skin off anyone's nose. If you listen to what I'm getting ready to tell you and you're
saying, okay, I'm out on that. I can't, I don't know what to do with that information. I can't
continue to support this podcast knowing this then that's completely your choice. It's something that I
have to accept, but I can't keep living this fucking lie. I'm just going to fucking say it. I can't
believe I'm getting ready to say it. I never plan on saying this. Here we go. I am a dark lord of
the Sith. I've never actually said the words out loud, not even to myself in the mirror. I just
sat down. I can't believe I did this. I just sat down here and said and told you who I really am.
I am a dark lord of the Sith. And I have been, let me think about this for a minute. It's 2025. I've been
a Sith lord since 2016. My acceptance into the Sith order is why I ended my active duty Navy service
because I had to be available for for my training. I had to learn at the feet of the dark lord
of the Sith for this particular galaxy. Okay, okay, back story. Let's just do it like this. I'm
telling the fucking story out of order because I'm disheveled. I've never, I've never said these
words out loud before. And I'm a little freaked out that I'm actually doing this. The Sith used to be
plentiful hundreds and hundreds of, maybe even thousands of Sith like the Jedi. You know, if you've
seen the movies or you've read the books or you know anything about the lore, the Jedi used to
number in the thousands until Darth Sidious and the guy who ultimately became Darth Vader executed
order 66 and ran through the Jedi order like, ran through Richmond. You're gonna have to
fucking bear with me because I still can't believe that I'm telling this, this story. Again,
never said these words out loud, not even,
I'm talking about something I was frankly never supposed to talk about. But okay,
if I see him, I'm not saying that I'm a god. I'm not saying that I'm a god. I'm not saying that I'm a god.
Before or 66, there was a dark lord of the Sith named Darth Bane. And he basically,
in a nutshell, killed off all the fucking Sith and created the rule of two, which is there is a
dark lord and there is an apprentice, the dark lord, to embody power, the apprentice to crave after
it or to crave it. Master and apprentice training each other and killing each other off all the way
through the centuries until we ended up with Sidious and Vader who sprung the grand plan.
Blah blah blah. Everybody knows that fucking story. But the part of the story that you don't know
is before Bane eradicated all the fucking Sith, the Sith were branching out to other fucking galaxies.
And there was a line of Sith that ended up here on Earth. And I am a direct descendant of that
that line. And I know it seems farfetched. I mean, Sith Lords walking among us, right? It's fucking
completely fucking ridiculous except it isn't. There's a whole movement of motherfuckers online who
really fucking believe that Odin and Thor and all of those motherfuckers exist. There are still people
who are worshipping the fucking old Greek gods and like worshipping them for real. They don't
think it's mythology. They're fucking convinced. Think about it. Use your fucking logic. I think if
anything, if you took a fucking 700 foot view of this situation, is it really that hard to fucking
believe that there are people walking among you, exceptional people like myself who have the
ability to move things with their fucking mind and create lightning from their fingertips?
I mean, there's a billion people in the world who literally go to a place every Sunday where they
tell you that there's this motherfucker that walked on water, turned water into wine, and then got
fucking killed. God has as scraped. Came back to life in three days. Oh, by the way, he also stopped
off in hell and shit talked all the centers. Is that I mean, so is it so fucking hard to believe
that their motherfuckers out there like Sith Lords? It shouldn't be. It should be a fucking easy cell,
but for some reason, I feel like you're not fucking vibing with me here. When I tell you that I'm a
fucking Sith Lord, I don't know what the fuck I have to do to make you believe that to make you see
the truth. Oh, okay, you want me to fucking pull out my lightsaber? Fine, here we go. What do you want me
to make fucking lightning come out of my fingertips? Fine, here you go. Force lightning, get some.
It's the fact that I talk like this, isn't it? If you really break it down and think about it,
we're 10 episodes into Missing Throat Radio. If I had been talking like this, my name is Doth
rapy. Dark Lord of the Sith. If I'd been talking like that for 10 episodes now, you wouldn't have
a doubt in your mind. Holy shit. If that's not a fucking Sith Lord, I'll kiss your ass. That's
the guy, that guy, that guy, that guy right there. Guaranteed is fucking eyes are yellow, but it's the
fact that I'm talking to you like this and I use words like dude and bro and bruh. Shit about a
fucking half ass surfer dude, right? I mean, what else do I have to do? Do you want me to tell you some
stories? Okay, let me tell you some fucking city stories then and we'll see if you then change
your assessment of my authenticity. This one day I was on my way down to the DMV. I get into the
fucking parking lot, pull in, jump out of the fucking truck real quick and I'm walking into the DMV
and I get fucking cut off on the sidewalk by some fucking fat broad with one of those Bob type
fucking haircuts. Okay, it's cool, keep your fucking anger in check. This is not the time or place
to sit out. She didn't know. I'm not wearing a cloak. We both walk in, this giant fucking bitch and I
take a number. She's number 67. I'm number 68. Now here's where big back birth of fucked up. I sat
down and registered online and told the DMV what I was there for. Why? Because I'm not a fucking idiot.
You don't get to be a Sith Lord being a fucking idiot. So I go through the process of telling the
fucking DMV why I'm there and what my waiting room number is 15 minutes goes by and then this happened.
Number 68. We look at number 68. Hey, that's me. Okay. Excuse me. I was here before him. Yes, ma'am, but he registered online.
He gets to come on up. His stuff won't take too long. We'll be right with you
Oh hell no. Oh hell no. I was here before him. I walked in three seconds before this motherfucker year.
Oh no. You shouldn't have done that. Yeah.
I'm out of that bitch's face right there in the DMV. You didn't hear about that. Did you?
You ever notice that mainstream media, anything that they can't fucking readily explain? They just
fucking omit from the news cycle. I'm sure Alex Jones or somebody probably reported it. But your old
boy Darth Rapey got off. Scott free on that one. Dating's a little fucked up though. Not gonna lie to you.
Finding a fucking chick that wants to spend the rest of her life with a Sith Lord, not easy.
And then if you actually happen to find one, there's always something wrong with him.
I was dating this chick one time named Megan and she had one of those hoops in her nose like way
before they were cool. You know what I mean? I guess you would say nowadays she's a trend setter.
Anyway, one day I was hitting it from behind and this happened. You fucking take that shit. You fucking take it.
Take this fucking beating it. You fucking take this dick. Take it. Oh my god Lorenzo. Oh yeah,
fuck it, fucking harder, fucking harder. Oh My God. Oh my god
Pussy whatsoever? Why do you think that is?
Because being a fucking Dark Lord of the Sith kind of relegates you to a certain class
Yes, I fucking have a
I've talked to you about that my fucking Sith name is Darth Vulva is Darth fucking rapy
I didn't choose that fucking name by the way that name was given to me by my master Darth Vulva
My name so he knew my name was gonna be Darth because that's the title Darth but then the name that comes after that is
Is delivered to him by the dark side of the force just listen listen to the ceremony
Meal before me. Yes, master from this day forward you will be known as Darth
rapy the fuck rapy my name is Darth rapy
Darth rapy rapy as RAPY
as in like poised and ready to begin raping but I don't fucking rape I'm sorry master
I don't fucking rape do I have to fucking rape now?
Son of a bitch. I don't want a fucking rape. Oh and incidentally
I don't want you to get this fucked up just because I am a Dark Lord of the Sith do not think for a fucking moment
That I am fabulously fucking wealthy
That is not the case found that out the hard way too once I was anointed
I thought that I once I was opened up to the secrets and mysteries of the fucking Sith
There would probably be a bank vault with all kinds of fucking money in it for us to do our evil
machinations on a global and
My master Darth Volva is dead now we'll get to that story but truth be told the wealth I was looking forward to the most
When I was hand selected to be the apprentice to the dark Lord of the Sith
I thought fucking hey here we go. I need a new truck anyway. This is gonna be fucking awesome and then I
Start down the path to Sith Mastery and I realize
On he's never asked me for my bank account info for direct deposit never been handed a sack of fucking gold or anything
I'm like three weeks in I have not seen a dime
So finally I asked him I said master not trying to be disrespectful or anything is there any
Money that comes along with the fucking title of Darth
It's especially if you're gonna fucking hang Darth rapy on me
Is there any money that comes along with this and he just chuckled in that weird city fucking way and he said no
There is no money. There was never any money this branch of the Sith
Has always been strapped for fucking cash and we work on donations and petty crimes in order to further our agenda
Which is probably why we haven't taken over this fucking dog shit planet yet and moved on to galactic dominion
And I was like son of a bitch of course it of course it is a fucking course of fucking course
It is a fucking course of course I get fucking hand selected to be a member of a fucking secret society that is flat ass
Fucking broke dark Lord of the fucking Sith the dark Lord of the fucking food stamps is what we should be called
Mother fucking Darth Volvo worked on the goddamn dollar general. Yeah, he wasn't even the general manager
He was the assistant manager at fucking dollar general
Dark Lord of the fucking Sith
Broke his shit for 12 bucks an hour. Oh and by the way you have no idea how hard it was to take fucking orders
From a dude making 12 bucks an hour
I'm over here of real honest to god no shit god damn professional
It went through school got my degree
I've got me a real motherfuckin job
And I'm fucking having to learn the Sith mysteries from skipping the fucking Il5 cleanup boy
But I mean is what it is he had the power he had the knowledge and I needed it
So I would sit there in the fucking parking lot and wait for him patiently to get done with his shift at the fucking dollar general
And then we would go to his one bedroom shitty fucking apartment and he would conduct my Sith training
I was a quick study.
Good student always was.
Sith training was no different.
I mastered the fucking telekinesis and I mastered the fucking looking into the future shit.
I mastered the fucking alchemy.
Incidentally no, you can't make fucking gold from lead even if you're a Sith.
I built my lightsaber.
I mean, think probably two years into my.
It served me well.
Never saw a reason to build another one.
And I mastered all of the skills necessary to be a Sith lord.
Here's where my master and I diverged a little bit.
He was perfectly content with keeping his fucking powers and using them to basically get laid.
There's really no other way to say that.
Darth Volvo was a very good looking dude.
For some reason the chicks really dug the yellow eyes and he was fucking rolling in bitches
all the time.
I mean literally waiting through fucking pools of pussy wherever he went.
But that was his Sith gift.
His Sith gift was magnetism.
Like fucking people were just drawn to him and the broads fucking loved him.
And he was content to just smash all the fucking bitches.
He got better quality pussy than I ever could.
That's for sure.
Darth Volvo was a very unserious dude.
And that ultimately ended up being his downfall.
We were sparring one day.
My saber versus his.
It was going just about the way it always did.
We fought each other through a fucking standstill.
Except this time it was getting a little heated because I had the edge.
It was the first time really.
I think I showed him that I had the ability to defeat him in lightsaber combat.
And he fucking didn't like it not one bit.
And he started attacking a little bit more forcefully and mixing in some fucking force powers
and that sort of thing.
And then finally I fucking kicked him.
I did a fucking spinning back kick and kicked him right in the fucking chest and set him
flying across the room.
Did they got up?
He fucking leapt and charged right at me.
And I stopped him in midair with the force and reached behind my back and pulled out a
gigantic, veiny, big blue fucking rubber dick.
Darth Volvo being who he was immediately thought, okay.
Well, it's sexy time.
He let his guard down.
He gave me that weird magnetic fucking smile of his.
The one that never worked on me, but I let him believe it did.
And that's when I tightened my fucking force grip.
And beat him to death about the face, breast, chest, neck, and fucking head with that giant
veiny blue goddamn double sided two-foot-long fucking rubber dick.
Plans for world dominion?
No.
Only using your powers for vagina.
For vagina.
Well, you live by the dick now, die, die by the dick.
And I was standing there over his lifeless fucking form.
I'd literally just bludgeon and beat the complete fucking life out of the dark Lord of the Sith,
standing over the top of him with that fucking bloody dick still in my fucking hand,
and my lightsaber and the other.
And finally I feel it like hair's standing up on the back of my neck, and then I can feel
him standing up on my forearms, and I feel the fucking tingling in my fingertips.
This is it.
This is what I fucking read about.
This is what I fucking heard about.
This is it.
This is my moment of apotheosis.
And I'm standing there, and I fucking dropped the penis, and I dropped my fucking lightsaber,
and I hold my head back and open my mouth and close my eyes and scream.
Scream to the universe, I'm ready.
I'm ready.
It's my apotheosis, where I become what I've always wanted to be.
The dark Lord of the Sith.
And the dark side of the force did not disappoint.
In that fucking moment I could see everything.
But I had all of that in my grasp at that very moment.
And then I looked at the lifeless fucking corpse of my former master, watching the fucking
lifeblood ooze out of his fucking cracked skull, and I looked down on him with disgust.
You had all of this, you had access to all of this, and instead you used it for vagina?
Pardon the voice, when I'm in the grips of fucking Siths shit, I do sit shit, and I
sat down right there right by his lifeless fucking corpse and opened myself up fully
to the dark side.
I wasn't in any hurry to let this moment get away from me.
And if this is the only time I see it, what if I don't have the ability to call on the
fucking cosmos and the energy of the universe anytime I like?
What if this is my gift, what if this is my reward, and the only time I get to see the galaxy
as it truly is, with all of the shatter points and flash points and connection points?
What if this is the only time I get the opportunity to build a pathway to fucking galactic dominance?
I'm not gonna waste that because I gotta figure out what the fuck I'm gonna do with
this body and I wanna get to water burger before breakfast is over, and I gotta get the
shit handled now.
So I sat down right there next to that stupid mother fucker and opened myself up fully
to the dark side, embraced my role as the dark lord of the Sith, and created a plan.
A master plan, a grand plan, if you wanna call on somebody else's terminology,
created a grand plan that I am currently using to take over this country that we live in.
To ultimately take over the European Union, all of the Asian countries, and ultimately
Africa and South America.
Global dominance is mere months away.
The Sith will ascend to their rightful place.
There's nothing you can fucking do about it, okay?
And then after I get this fucking plan it in check, I'm moving on to the rest of the galaxy.
You stupid mother fuckers out there always asking, are we alone?
Are we alone in the universe?
Jesus says we're alone, okay?
Are we alone in the universe?
No, you're not fucking alone in the universe.
And I'm coming for them too.
So I guess what
you could say, what started out here today as Missing Throw Brady, oh just the goofy old god
Lorenzo Missing Throw Brady, oh show.
And then eventually turned into a confession that I felt really fucked up about for a moment
is now a warning.
I've come out of the fucking shadows.
I am your dark lord of the Sith.
My name, I'm not ashamed of it anymore, is Darth Rapey and yes I will rape your fucking
women and some of your livestock I am from the Midwest, after all.
If the hooves will fit into my fucking boots, I'm coming for them and then coming in them.
Stand fucking by.
You've been fucking warned.
Don't get in my way.
If you would like to be considered, first of all, I don't need you.
Let's just go into it, I'm knowing that right up front, I don't fucking need you, okay?
I'm a goddamn Sith lord, a fucking not just a Sith lord, I'm the Sith lord.
Don't get it twisted, I don't need you.
But if you want to come along for the ride, slide into my fucking DMs, okay?
Currently, currently, incidentally, and I thought about this, not all that long after I was
selected as the dark lord's apprentice, this fucking going around and looking and beating
the streets and trying to find the apprentice of your fucking dreams is so fucking stupid.
I'm gonna use this platform.
This fucking Missin' Th
you will get to build a lightsaber, you will learn to use it.
The only thing is you have to be available to further the fucking agenda and that agenda
is literally galactic fucking domination.
We're on the cusp of really launching into something fucking great.
Apply.
We had an apprentice, so when I open myself up to the dark side of the force to give you
your name, I'm going to try to shoot for something not as fucked up as Darth Rapey, but I mean,
kinda fucking is what it is.
We'll do the best we can.
Slide into my fucking DMs, give me all of the reasons why I should choose you to be the
next dark lord of the Sith and we'll go from there.
Alright, well that pretty much does it for this episode of Missin' Th're a Bradyale.
I hope you are enjoying the fucking insanity episode 10.
No shit, check me out.
Yes, I'm not on episode 391.
Will I ever get there?
Fuck, I don't know.
I have no idea
but we are close to being done with season 1.
I think I'll do two more episodes and then we will call season 1 a wrap.
I'll take a little bit of time off to kind of rest and recuperate and retool and regear
and relaunch for Missin' Th're a Bradyale season 2.
Anyway, I hope you're digging the show.
When I set out to do this, I told myself it doesn't have to be funny all the time.
Sometimes it's going to be funny, sometimes it's going to not be super funny, sometimes
it'll just be amusing or something fucking weird to listen to, but what I want and what
I hope you take away from it and again, slide into my fucking DMs and let me know.
I want it to be 30, 45 minutes that you give me every week for a little bit of fucking
unreality because reality is fucking gay.
You know, you can't get away from it everywhere you go.
They're fucking beating reality down your throat on the TV, fucking radio, even podcasts.
Most podcasts are beating you over the fucking head with the horrible condition
of the fucking world and all the reasons why everything sucks.
I want Missin' Th're a Bradyale to be funny, sure.
I'd like it to be funny.
I would also like it to be entertaining.
That would be great, but more than anything else, I want it to be a little fucking stroll
through unreality just for a while.
Something you can just turn your brain off and casually enjoy.
Hopefully, I'm not missing the mark on that.
Alright, until next time.