Zane
That is harsh but I understand. You always were the only one who would tell it to me straight. You and one other person that is. Mr. Franky Whistlemyerstain. He was the assistant coach of my youth t-ball team. I remember I struck out once and started crying and he came right up to me and put his hands on my shoulders and just shook me Really hard. Probably too hard. My neck broke and three of my ribs shattered. I'll never forget that guy.
Jimmy
He broke your neck? That's a real douche move. Did you live?
Zane
Barely. They had to rush me into emergency surgery and they ended up putting about a hundred screws, a couple of bolts, three titanium rods, and a full truck load of concrete into me. Luckily they put all that shit into my asshole and not my neck or I would have died.
Jimmy
Well I'm glad to hear you survived. I was afraid that you died and that the Bill Cosby movie Ghost Dad was loosely based on your life.
Zane
Thanks for the well-wishes. You just don't hear enough well-wishes now-a-days do you? In my professional opinion everyone should wish everyone else well or at the very least not go out of their way to kill them. Maybe that's just the crazy hippie in me coming out but that's how I feel.
Jimmy
That does sound a little hippy-dippy. Although to be honest I don't really know what the fuck hippy dippy means. But I heard a guy say it one time.
Zane
Hippy dippy is what you call something that's far out or totally in the spirit of loving Mother Earth. For instance, if you were to crash a motor bike into a tree and then french kiss that tree, that would be hippie dippy.
Jimmy
Got it, hippy dippy means tree fucking. If that's the case, I guess you could say my uncle Earl is "hippy dippy". Except instead of trees it was me.
Zane
That's gross but I suppose you're right.
Too bad we couldn't have captured the type of magic we create here in these messages on our podcast. I think I'm funnier when I communicate in complete sentences and give myself a couple of seconds to actually come up with a thought before I speak.
Jimmy
Well we could type out our podcasts. Although anyone who's interested in our podcasts probably aren't big readers.
Zane
A typed podcast you say...that might just be crazy enough to work. We could be pioneers of the typed podcast sensation that surely coming. There'll be website upon website filled with nothing but people rabble about anything and everything. I don't think we should call it a "typed podcast" though. We need something simpler. Shorter. How about we call it a "Flog".
Jimmy
Flog eh? Reminds me of something I once heard of called a blog. But I think that has something to do with sticking a log up your butt.
Zane
Blogs are for pussies is what my great-great-grandpa used to say. Flogs are for real men with strong arms and squared jaws and My Little Pony tattoos on their rear ends.
Jimmy
Well if having my little pony tattooed on your ass makes you manly, then consider me Burt Reynolds.
Zane
Alright then Burt. How's about you and me (Shirley Temple) get started on Flogging!
Jimmy
As they used to say in the old country, flog me up you bastard!
August 5
Zane
We need to make sure we stretch out really well before we start this flogging. Heavens knows the last thing we need is a pulled bithoyiod mastonomous tissue muscle tendon.
August 5
Jimmy
True. There's nothing worse than a.....one of those.
And here is the rest of it.
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