This episode is a full-blown character spiral wrapped in layers of absurdity, veiled sincerity, and comedic endurance. “Talent Brando,” presumably a riffing improv persona conjured by one of the hosts or a guest, dominates the mic for the first quarter of the episode in a fever dream of wannabe-rapper bravado, circular pseudo-wisdom, and overcooked industry paranoia. The performance leans heavily on the tension between irony and earnestness, never quite tipping its hand, which is either masterful or frustrating depending on your tolerance for prolonged bits that refuse to resolve.

There’s a distinct brilliance to the chaos here—the endless rebranding of Talent Brando’s name (Talent Ed Brando, Tiptop Magcoo, Grandpa Forever), the obsessive declarations about being a “thinking rapper,” and the increasingly absurd industry anecdotes that somehow involve DJ Spooks and Kendrick Lamar. The improv chemistry is strong, though the bit wears thin at times, saved only by the group's commitment and unpredictable tangents (including a surprisingly sincere late-episode geopolitical detour and a prolonged fantasy involving Tom Cruise assassinating Trump in a bee costume).

It’s messy, crass, and deliberately indulgent. In other words: very much on-brand. I wouldn’t recommend this as a first listen, but if you’re a fan of character-driven improv or just enjoy hearing comedians dare each other to keep a bit going past its expiration date, it’s a must.

Recommendation: For seasoned listeners only.

This episode opens with a gold trophy sitting in for the absent Ian, and somehow that sets the perfect tone. What follows is a deeply unserious, often morbidly hilarious conversation between the core group of Alex, John, Nick, and the spectral presence of Ian. Their stream-of-consciousness banter drifts through topics like grave aesthetics, cremation preferences, echolocation envy, and the mechanics of turning a man into a walrus—each one given equal (lack of) reverence.

There are highlights. Nick's cemetery rant veers between poignant and absurd, revealing an unexpectedly human thread amid the nonsense. The group’s fabricated scandal about Ian eating his dog is pure chaos, toeing the line between farce and bad taste—so, classic Selleck. Also worth noting is the segment on Serbian-Mexican cultural overlap, which is both strangely informative and a reminder that these guys occasionally stumble into sociological gold between fart jokes.

That said, this episode is not for the easily offended or the structurally inclined. There’s no narrative, no theme—just a freefall of degenerately funny bits. Do I recommend it? Only to someone who understands the phrase “Gold Dust is part of the Bic lore” without needing further explanation.

Grade: B+. Best enjoyed with a low bar and a dark sense of humor.

In a meandering, manic descent into absurdity, the Burt Selleck crew delivers what could only be described as a podcast episode in the most technical sense. There are words. They are spoken into microphones. What follows is a 3-hour fever dream that bounces from faux-coke interventions to Pride parade shirts, cologne preferences, and hypothetical gay sex pyramids—all punctuated by a surprising degree of sincerity about moving to Washington and leaving it all behind.

The lack of structure is, as always, the point—but this episode leans especially hard into its unhinged, free-associative identity. Nick is accused of being on cocaine (he denies it), then celebrated for being cool (because maybe he is on cocaine?), then drafted into a graphic, hypothetical human-sex totem pole. It’s all delivered with the improv-slick timing of people who know each other’s rhythms too well. The topics veer from aggressively juvenile to weirdly insightful to sincerely bleak, all without breaking stride.

Would I recommend it? To a friend? Only if they’ve already lost their job, ruined their marriage, and need something to confirm that their life could be more chaotic. But if you’re into unfiltered chaos and uncomfortable laughs, this might be your next religion.

Damn, Chat GPT really flamed us this week:

Imagine if a true crime documentary and Beavis and Butt-Head had a baby in a haunted house—that’s about the vibe of this episode. “Scroll Time’s Over” kicks off with courtroom jokes and Joey Diaz references but quickly swan-dives into an Olympic event of who-can-describe-the-worst-thing-they’ve-ever-seen. Spoiler: Ian wins by a landslide, again.

The prison rape stories, deadpan recountings of violent YouTube rabbit holes, and unsolicited memories of hanging Dobermans give the episode all the warmth of a Serbian film. If you’ve ever wanted to hear four grown men casually rank the trauma levels of tire fires and deer massacres while trying (and failing) to be funny, congratulations—you’ve found your podcast.

The boys’ attempt at gallows humor mostly lands like a broomstick to the gut. Some moments teeter on interesting—like lucid dreaming or whether humans taste like pork—but they're buried under so much nihilistic one-upmanship you’ll wonder if this isn’t just a lost Faces of Death commentary track.

Recommendation: Skip it unless you enjoy bleak absurdity, have an iron stomach, and believe empathy is for the weak. Otherwise, maybe just go outside. Touch grass. Hug a dog. Preferably a living one.

ChatGPT’s Review of 242_Hands_Free:

This episode is an unrelenting two-hour descent into bodily function discourse, underwear preferences, and unsolicited engineering solutions for urinals and glory holes. There is no structure, no point, and no pretense of productivity—just four men free-associating from one grotesque or absurd image to the next with the energy of a locker room that's been locked from the outside.

The standout topic (if we must call it that) is the anatomy and usage of men's underwear—specifically, the philosophical and logistical implications of the "dickhole." From there, the episode spirals into inventive, often horrifying solutions for public bathroom ergonomics, with side tangents into big cat cuisine, Serbian-Mexican cultural exchange, and the ethics of castration play. At some point, it becomes a meta-commentary on podcasting itself—how little it takes to sustain a show when the chemistry is this chaotic.

The tone? Gleefully filthy and unserious. The laughs come from the sheer persistence of the hosts' commitment to each bit, no matter how stupid or uncomfortable. It's not for the squeamish, the uptight, or anyone expecting a point.

Would I recommend it? Yes—if you're a fan of unfiltered guy talk that rides the line between idiocy and accidental brilliance. Otherwise, maybe stick to podcasts with actual topics.

Chat GPT's Review of this Episode:

Okay, so I just listened to the latest episode of the podcast and I genuinely don’t know whether to recommend it or call the cops. It opens with one of them watching 9/11 footage for fun (?) and then immediately shifts into a heartfelt (?) story about eating a trans man’s pussy at a gay bathhouse. And that’s just the first five minutes.

The rest of the episode is a non-stop, two-hour chaos spiral of the most deranged, offensive, honest, and weirdly touching conversations you’ve ever heard—like if Howard Stern, Jackass, and a philosophy seminar about gender, pleasure, and roast beef all merged during a group acid trip in a steam room.

You will hear phrases like:

• “This might be a gateway pussy.”
• “You don’t let a dick stop you from hanging with your bros.”
• “Free Palestine… spelled with your tongue.”
• “You’re the sigma Christ of allyship.”

By the end, they’re somehow talking about cheeses, bathhouse fashion, hot sauce hierarchies, and Abraham Lincoln’s gay lover. It’s completely unhinged, but you can’t stop listening because it’s also weirdly wholesome in the way that only disgusting, honest people who love each other can be.

Warning:

Do not let your grandma accidentally hear this. This is for fans of raw, messy, queer-adjacent degenerate comedy that doesn’t apologize and doesn’t hold your hand. If you're easily offended, just... don't.

Verdict:

Unfiltered filth with a surprisingly tender core. I laughed out loud, gagged a few times, and honestly? Felt a little proud of them. Listen if you're okay with losing your sense of morality for 90 minutes. Skip if you require a safe word.

Okay, so this episode is unhinged. Like, fully unfiltered garage-talk energy from four guys who sound like they’ve been friends for 20 years and have no concept of an inside voice—or HR. It starts with a debate over whether they say “cuss,” “swear,” or “curse,” and from there it just devolves into a fever dream of bits, roast prep, conspiracy theories, engagements, ancient aliens, and whether or not it’s possible to kill someone in a CIA broom closet without leaving evidence. (Spoiler: someone thinks the key question is "was my cum on the body?")

Eventually they spiral into a philosophical conversation about committing murder, being emotionally equipped to kill, whether dogs can be reborn as phoenixes, and a dead friend’s Yorkie named Buttons. By the end, they’re talking about circumcision, mushroom-shaped bulges in jeans, and what food trucks they’d start if society collapses.

Warning:

This is not for the faint of heart. If you’re easily offended, skip it. If you’re in the mood to hear a bunch of degenerates get genuinely sweet about one of them getting engaged between riffs about buttholes and animal murder? This is your episode.

Verdict:

Listen if you like your comedy podcast with a side of chaos, a sprinkle of deep friendship, and absolutely no editing. Avoid if you require structure or don’t want to hear the word “c***” used as punctuation.

Here's this weeks AI review:

This episode is a chaotic, rambling juggernaut of hypothetical animal fights, anxiety about sleep apnea machines, low-key geopolitical analysis, and tender moments of friendship masked as insults. The "100 men vs. 1 gorilla" debate takes center stage and becomes the backbone of a surprisingly in-depth discussion on human frailty, group dynamics, and just how useless militia guys would be in a real fight.

There are some strong comedic riffs (the gorilla’s new weapon is a man’s arm, the idea of gorilla cavalry, a jaguar in floaties being dropped into mako-infested waters), and everyone brings their A-game when it comes to one-liners and absurd logic. At times, the episode threatens to collapse under its own weight, but then it hits you with something like “jaguar life vest” or “Christmas, the man who smuggles entire PS5s in his ass,” and you're back in.

It’s long. It’s messy. It meanders. But it’s funny. If you like your comedy with a heavy dose of chaos and group-chat energy, this is absolutely worth the listen.

Recommended?

Yes — if you’re cool with no clear structure, lots of shouting, and a gorilla swinging militia guys like nunchucks.

No — if you need your podcasts edited, focused, or remotely productive.