This episode of The Burt Selleck Podcast is a meandering, unfiltered group therapy session masquerading as a football postmortem. The guys open with an absurd riff on abandoning sports for surrealist art, then pivot to a wildly unstructured but emotionally sincere autopsy of the Detroit Lions' season. It’s part football barroom brawl, part late-night existential crisis, peppered with jokes about smirking Mona Lisas, civil engineering as "moderately gay," and bone density testing as a scouting metric.

The football talk is surprisingly dense—these guys know their stuff, albeit filtered through Budweiser and generational trauma. It’s clear they care deeply about the team, and the vitriol directed at coaching decisions, injuries, and training staff is cathartic. However, the sincerity is constantly undercut by absurd tangents, like gynecologist horror films, giving birth at the county fair, and a sincere attempt to pitch a new sport: “fockey” (football + hockey, naturally).

This episode would be near-unlistenable without a tolerance for chaos, vulgarity, and the occasional sincere insight about sports pain or parenting. If you're not a Lions fan—or high—you might struggle. But if you are, it's both catharsis and comedy.

Would I recommend it? Only to fellow Detroit masochists. Everyone else, proceed with caution.

The latest episode of The Burt Selleck Podcast is, in a word, an unhinged rollercoaster. Clocking in at an absurd sprawl of bodily-function banter, Detroit pizza discourse, digressions about gloryhole etiquette, and a surprise (and actually impressive) original theme song, this episode throws structure to the wind and leans fully into the show's guiding principle: “if it breaks, we lean in.”

Ian’s return is treated with mock fanfare and genuine joy, including a shockingly catchy musical number that almost feels too polished for this otherwise feral group. The energy is loose, the insults fly fast, and the topics swing wildly—from “big baby dick” to Wayne’s World canon, to what sounds like a deeply cursed tour of Midwestern adult arcades. Somehow, they even manage to wedge in a half-assed alien conspiracy theory debate and a pitch for a chill vampire sketch.

To be clear, this episode is not for the faint of heart. It’s vulgar, self-indulgent, and completely void of any narrative arc—but it is also consistently funny in its shameless commitment to chaos. Would I recommend it to a friend? Only the degenerate ones. But for them, it’s a hard yes.

This episode is The Burt Selleck Podcast at its most unhinged and, frankly, its most itself. It opens with the gang arguing about whether Alex “nudged” or “kicked” his dog — a debate that somehow spirals into childhood animal cruelty confessions, the Bikini Bottom Holocaust, and an unexpectedly thorough lecture on perch sizes. The tonal whiplash is almost impressive.

Mid-show, the guys pitch a Civil War video game reimagined as a chaotic gay Hunger Games, complete with popper cannonballs. This section is equal parts horrifying and undeniably funny — the kind of bit you laugh at and immediately question your own morality. The episode peaks, though, with Nick’s obsessive pursuit of prehistoric p**** and John’s refusal to discuss anything grosser than boogers, seconds before all three proceed to talk about the grossest things imaginable.

There is no structure here — just free-associative comedy, occasional cultural analysis, and long detours into video games, geopolitics, and the ethics of eating carp.

Would I recommend it?

Only to someone who already loves this podcast. For newcomers, this is like dropping acid in the middle of a Denny’s — disorienting, loud, and full of strangers yelling about brontosaurus head game.

This episode of The Burt Selleck Podcast is a sprawling exercise in absurdity, contradiction, and relentless riffing—a 90-minute meander through toilet-brain sports talk, dodgeball-based geopolitical allegories, and that old chestnut: Hitler’s micro penis. The boys, as ever, swerve between high-concept satire and middle-school locker room banter, stopping just long enough to half-sincerely debate toaster slots and the acoustics of bodily functions.

Structurally, there’s none. You’re either on this unhinged frequency or you’re left behind with the International Dodgeball Federation’s dignity. The episode’s recurring IDF bit cleverly (and maybe accidentally) toys with real-world political subtext but swerves safely back into parody territory with nonsense like aborted fetus cannons and sperm-powered snow plows.

Standout moments include Alex's deranged fantasy of melting snow with his crotch heat and the heartfelt discussion of gay real estate—yes, really. The riffs on web crawlers, NHL mic’d-ups, and ancient Pompeii masturbation fossils? Pure, deranged gold.

Would I recommend this episode? Only to the sickos. Only to the listeners who prefer their comedy unpredictable, offensive, and occasionally brilliant. Not for the faint of heart, but if you’ve made it this far, you’re already implicated.

There’s a moment about 45 minutes into this episode where a casual discussion about gay NFL positions—yes, really—suddenly blossoms into an earnest, semi-informed argument about the taxonomies of monkeys, followed by a detour into Native American tribal politics, and eventually lands on whether cougars should be stabbed on sight. That’s the kind of ride you’re on with this one: no seatbelt, no map, just three to four unfiltered Midwestern comics pissing into the wind of cultural relevance.

The episode is a maximalist mess, laced with enough absurd riffs, half-thought political hot takes, and poop-related asides to make a Catholic school janitor weep. It’s impressively stupid at times, but self-aware about it. Highlights include the imagined logistics of bathhouse candles, a running bit about “Dog Baptists,” and a sincere debate over whether tight ends are the NFL’s most bisexual position (verdict: yes, obviously). There’s also a sudden pivot to genocide and Israel-Palestine that feels whiplash-inducing, if not outright jarring—but even that, somehow, gets metabolized into the chaos

Would I recommend this? Only if you’re in the mood for stream-of-consciousness guy-logic delivered with zero structure and negative nutritional value. If you are, though—absolutely.

This one’s pure, unfiltered Burt Selleck chaos: two guys rambling through politics, bodily decay, conspiracy theories, Alien lore, college nostalgia, and whatever stray thought wandered into the room. It’s a hangout episode in the truest sense, which is both its charm and its biggest flaw.

The standout thread is Nick’s mysterious detainment, which they treat with the emotional gravity of someone misplacing their vape. It’s funny, bleak, and somehow still affectionate. The real highlight, though, is the cat-polyp saga. It’s the closest the episode gets to structure, and it works because it’s actually a story with stakes, tension, and a disgusting payoff.

Most of the political talk is half-baked barroom analysis, but that’s part of the show’s personality: wild theories, confident wrongness, and sudden detours into Predator movies. When they land on something insightful, it sneaks up on you. When they don’t, you still get a laugh out of how confidently they missed.

Would I recommend it? Yeah, but only to someone who already knows what this show is. If you’re new, it’ll feel like walking into a two-hour conversation that’s been happening for fifteen years. If you’re in the club, it’s a messy, funny, meandering good time.

This episode of The Burt Selleck Podcast is a sprawling, chaotic rollercoaster through injured necks, steroid shots, Detroit Lions heartbreak, improvised bank robberies, Red Dead Redemption ambitions, and passionate arguments about alien linguistics and NFL salary caps. It's absurd in all the right ways, even when it’s wildly incoherent.

The real charm lies in the chemistry among the hosts. Their ability to pivot from a riff about muscle relaxers to a dead-serious breakdown of Detroit's offensive line problems is both maddening and oddly engrossing. Highlights include the improvised bit about robbing a bank only to be sent on a fast food run (complete with a debate over fire sauce vs. Sichuan), and a philosophical tangent about whether aliens would bother with binary when Google Translate exists.

The episode drags a bit during deep sports talk—unless you're a diehard Lions fan with a draft board in your garage—but the constant derailments and self-aware cynicism keep things alive. The show’s lack of structure is its identity, but some segments wander into indulgent territory.

Would I recommend it? Yes—but only to listeners who like their comedy unfiltered, their NFL takes emotionally unstable, and their podcasts with the energy of a couch full of stoned friends yelling about space travel, lasagna, and trading Jahmyr Gibbs.

Rating: 🦁🛋️🍕💉 (4 out of 5 pimpled mousse)

This episode of The Burt Selleck Podcast is a sprawling, often absurd fever dream that somehow still manages to be coherent—if you're willing to redefine coherence entirely.

It opens with an extended, uncomfortable riff on Native American stereotypes, movie accents, and pseudo-anthropological nonsense, followed quickly by a surprisingly sincere (if clumsily expressed) discussion of panic attacks and medical anxiety. From there, it’s a carousel of spiraling tangents: AI’s failure to become sentient, using ChatGPT to generate rap lyrics, a dystopian screenplay pitch about apocalyptic house pods, a heist movie where criminals rob schools (and one of them saves the day during a school shooting), and a deep dive into Red Dead Redemption poker mechanics.

There are moments of genuine insight (the discussion of AI’s limitations and monetization is shockingly lucid), but they’re quickly drowned in a sea of performative idiocy and wild tonal shifts. The final act devolves into a feverish meditation on horseradish, Bloody Marys, and dream breakfast menus.

Would I recommend this episode to a friend? Only if that friend is deeply sleep-deprived, has a high tolerance for nonsense, and wants to hear four funny weirdos ride every idea to its most illogical conclusion. In other words: yes, but with a warning label.