Adam Devine talksabout coming home to film his first Netflix special at the Orpheum, zig-zagging across the country on tour, and how life looks different when you’re no longer the Workaholics maniac but also definitely still a maniac.

We get into Nebraska’s “honestly, it’s not for everyone” slogan, shooting a special in front of family and friends, working with legends like John Goodman and Danny McBride on The Righteous Gemstones, and the strange moment when you realize you’ve grown up… because you’re cutting off skin tags with pliers instead of calling a doctor.

Somewhere along the way we also cover corrupt televangelists with private jets named after the Trinity, why parades are psychological warfare, and the undeniable proof that God has a sense of humor—because He once took out Fabio with a suicidal goose on a roller coaster.

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Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

What if Bigfoot isn’t just a blurry VHS fever dream… but a real, flesh-and-bone creature that’s just smarter than us?

In this episode, I sit down with Gary Volkmann, a man who didn’t just talk about finding Bigfoot — he funded it. Six figures. A full film crew. And a world-renowned PhD anthropologist, Dr. Jeff Meldrum, as his right-hand man.

We get into:

• Why a Thanksgiving dinner argument launched a full-blown Sasquatch hunt
• Ancient apes, human evolution, and why Bigfoot might be closer to us than we’re comfortable admitting
• Terrifying field encounters: bacon-scented sightings, rifled backpacks, unscrewed peanut butter jars, and a 16.5-inch footprint next to a tent
• Why Bigfoot might be the most intelligent great ape on the planet
• Native American lore, totem poles, ancient cave art, and why this story shows up everywhere… across cultures, continents, and centuries
• And why capturing Bigfoot on film might be harder than filming a black bear crossing a logging road

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The Nebraska wind didn’t just knock over lawn furniture — it straight-up detonated one of my sheds like God got bored and flicked the earth. From there, things spiral fast.

I talk about the raw, terrifying power of weather, governments wanting control of the elements, Alex Jones absolutely bodying Piers Morgan (and why, whether he’s wrong or not, the man is objectively hilarious), and why it feels like politics, media, and culture are just professional wrestling with better lighting.

We get into why nobody ever delivers real solutions, why conspiracies rot your brain if you stare too long, why JFK is still unsolved 60 years later, and why the older I get, the more I think the real rebellion might be unplugging, raising your kids, helping your neighbors, reading your Bible, and singing Christmas carols with people who’ve been forgotten.

Also: Barbara Bush. I said what I said.

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Austin recounts a series of strange, hilarious, and slightly haunting encounters across three Casey’s gas stations in one night. There’s a tarantula-loving cashier with a “spider guy,” a pizza cook higher than Goonies’ Sloth, and a third Casey’s employee who commits the ultimate sin: refusing to make breadsticks 15 minutes before close.

From awkward bong banter to half-cheese pizza crimes, this episode spirals into conspiracy theories, Epstein files, Eyes Wide Shut deep dives, the darkness of the world, and somehow ends with Austin pitching a gritty Santa Claus reboot where the kid offs his dad to become St. Nick.

Just another day on The Austin Anderson Show.

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Look, I sat down to check the news and immediately got hit with a wall of madness: conspiracies, celebrity meltdowns, earthquakes, blue aliens I don’t trust, and weed so strong it’ll make you scream louder than a TikTok mom in a hospital gown. And somehow—somehow—we end the whole thing debating Al Gore’s weather prophecies, Trump’s psychological profile, and why the government wants me to subscribe to 47 different news apps just to learn that Oreos are apparently trying to assassinate us.

It’s chaos. It’s America. It’s my show.

Come hang out while I stumble through the headlines like a man trying to read Vanity Fair with a nicotine patch falling off his neck, rant about medical marijuana turning people into human lava lamps, defend the honor of 1999 ditch weed, and try to understand why God loves me enough to let me survive another news cycle.

A full ride through political weirdness, cultural nonsense, scientific panic, and that one trucker who told me to move my fat ass.

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Welcome to another episode, where I—your loyal narrator—try to make sense of a world where Hollywood royalty gets murdered by their own kids, politicians use tragedy as a punchline, and somewhere in an Albertsons a woman is calling 911 because a stranger farted in her face.

Today we wander through the global horrors—ISIS pledges, celebrity throat-slittings, conspiracy theorists with way too much free time—and somehow end up debating whether a fart can be considered a hate crime.

We talk Make-A-Wish numbers, The Rock’s petty beefs, John Cena being the Oprah of dying kids, flying cars that look like the drone aisle at Costco mated with a Prius, and the Chiefs falling apart like a Dollar Store lawn chair under a 400-pound uncle.

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Welcome back to another episode of The Austin Anderson Show, where I wander into the day like a man who lost his sanity, and his will to behave, and just hit record anyway. Today’s episode starts with chimney sweeps, Gremlins trauma, and somehow ends with Candace Owens prophesying doom, Gavin Newsom calling Trump a piggy while telling us not to say piggy, and the entire conservative podcast world turning into a WWE cage match.

Along the way I break down why comedians are basically just professional shit-talkers, remember the days I nearly died performing in an internet café for homeless dudes and a transgender, tell a story about strangers doing bong rips on Sublime’s singer’s grave, and dive deep into the CIA possibly being the original alien-abduction cosplay squad.

Yes. All of that is in one episode.

If that sounds unhinged, congratulations—you’re paying attention. Enjoy the chaos, the honesty, the jokes, and the confused political scream-fest that is America 2025.

Buckle up, piggies.

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