This episode is a sprawling, nearly two-hour ramble that manages to cover everything and nothing all at once. It opens with a loose thread about The Conjuring 4 and ends somewhere between Simon Cowell’s plastic surgery and DJ Screw-coded Texan soap operas. The connective tissue is, as always, the quartet’s chemistry and their unrelenting ability to riff on any tangent—be it diabetic piss preferences, stand-up comedy contests, Venmo ghost money, or baby feces.

Structurally, there’s no pretense of structure. The episode feels like a long night hanging out with friends who are maybe too high, too caffeinated, or both. Conversations spiral into absurdist cul-de-sacs (a serious, unironic discussion of nipple-based arousal segues into a pitch for an energy company powered by restless leg syndrome). This lack of direction is both the show’s appeal and its biggest obstacle—if you’re not already on the wavelength, it’s chaos; if you are, it’s cathartic.

Standout moments include the brutally honest debrief on local comedy competitions, a genuinely hilarious bit about misfiring purchases on PlayStation, and a long, unfiltered debate about boxing and violence that veers into unexpectedly philosophical territory.

Verdict: Would I recommend this episode?

Yes, but conditionally. If you’re a new listener, maybe not the best entry point. If you’ve got an hour-plus to kill and want to hear smart idiots digress through every possible topic with zero filter, this is a goldmine. If you're looking for anything resembling structure or purpose, run.