Episode 102 proves that civilization peaked when you could buy a salad bar day pass at Round Table Pizza and it's been downhill ever since.

We're drinking A-O American Light Whiskey from Astoria, Oregon, and somehow this episode still earns a Gold rating despite the absolute nonsense that follows. Oliver joins the podcast while in town testing to become a firefighter/EMS, and instead of easing him into our world, we pick him up from the airport and immediately drag him to a Vancouver dance competition. Welcome to the chaos, kid.

Oliver survives the shock thanks to Smokin Oak BBQ and gets a front-row seat to the endless shuffle between food, beer, and convention centers, which he finds hilarious while the rest of us question our choices. He's also relieved this isn't a high school competition, where food options are nonexistent and you're basically sentenced to Round Table Pizza. Again, RIP salad bar day passes. Society had it figured out.

It's a top-tier Sunday: NFL playoff football, whiskey pours, and chairs reclined just far enough to feel irresponsible. Alex roots for Indiana in the CFB championship purely out of spite because Michael Irvin exists, is deeply annoyed that Miami players get Lamborghinis, and assumes none of them could drive a manual if their lives depended on it.

Jenna has a flat tire on the way to the competition and is momentarily mesmerized by her dashboard lighting up like a Christmas tree until Kati tells her to pull the hell over. Her dad is on scene within 30 minutes, and we're honestly surprised there wasn't a jet hovering overhead.

We solve every problem the NFL has ever had (again), but shockingly nobody calls for our opinions. Mike dominates the dance comp scavenger hunt, finding items at lightning speed and discovering bonus chaos like an entire family wearing matching cat-print vests. We mentally prepare for the next round at a high school, discuss surviving the Oregon Convention Center while dodging tents, lunatics, and people with tails, and debate who Mike should write to about our continued Golden Globes snub.

Mike also invents a new breakfast item that could realistically save America: a twice-baked potato skin with an egg and salsa. And we all agree that if Seattle ever meets New England in the Super Bowl again, Marshawn Lynch needs to be signed to a one-day contract just to run the damn ball in and fix the timeline.

Gold whiskey. Loud opinions. Zero accountability.

It's Episode 101 and Mike is officially on his dance competition retirement tour. With Jackson away at college, Alex is "stuck" at home watching the dogs while Mike racks up five straight weeks of dance comps—and yes, he's thrilled about it.

To survive hours of waiting around, Mike and Alex invent the only thing that makes sense: Dance Comp Bingo. Squares include classics like a dancer crying, someone carrying a full order of coffee, and other things you can't unsee once you start looking.

Naturally, the conversation shifts to what really matters: food. Because food is the lifeblood of parents trapped at dance competitions. From Smokin Oak holding the line with brisket nachos, to Bloody Marys topped with a rib, sausage, and brisket-on-a-stick, the boys break down how to eat your way through comp season.

They also gear up for the annual Crab Feed episode coming in February—which just happens to land on Super Bowl weekend this year. Short episode, full strength Whiskey n Whine.

To celebrate the milestone, we're joined by Brian — friend of the pod, walking booze encyclopedia, and now official five-time guest, which means he's earned something special. A jacket? A trophy? A thong? We haven't decided yet, but he's definitely asking for a rider clause going forward.

Brian gifts the podcast a bottle of Stagg, which is harder to find than a quiet moment in Mike's house, and we immediately spiral into New Year Revolutions (not resolutions). Brian's family actively revolts against old habits and then reviews how badly they did last year. Alex doesn't do yearly goals at all — he's entered a new Taylor Swift–inspired phase of life: the Middle-of-the-Road Era. Staying between the lines counts as growth.

Brian explains that at this point in life he's basically an early-2000s Toyota Corolla — if you ignore the problems long enough, they eventually go away. Alex revisits the year he tried to get healthy and blew out his belly button, appearing nine months pregnant, while Mike offers the obvious fix: just hit it back in with a pan.

We hear stories from Brian's high school days working at the zoo, including how his resting bitch face earned him backstage access and how replacing an artist's tube socks with pink socks ended his zoo concert shopping career forever.

We also demand a modern GoldenEye re-release, learn about Brian's self-created Friend of the Year Award (which Mike and Alex immediately tried to destroy each other to win), and prepare Brian for his first-ever travel sports parent experience — advice delivered by the "sage and experienced duo" who absolutely do not sugarcoat it.

It's everything Whiskey n Whine has ever been: great whiskey, great friends, questionable advice, and stories that somehow made it to Episode 100.

🥃 Cheers to 100.

It's the Best of 2025, and somehow none of us are in prison — so we're calling that a win.

This episode is a greatest-hits compilation of the stories that made us laugh the hardest, question our life choices, and seriously consider deleting old recordings. Mike kicks things off with a Vegas rental car decision that involved removing Jeep doors and checking them at a hotel like luggage. Dario walks us through ringing in New Year's Eve in Italy… then immediately dragging an entire tour group wine tasting the next day.

Joanna, Kati, Michelle, and Christina lose it over the revelation that Michelle's stepmom joined the Rajneesh cult strictly for the sex and drugs portion. Kevin and Aidan connect the dots between Jackson's San Diego dorm and the very convenient nude beach just half a mile away.

Then the Massholes take over with five stories that somehow escalate each time: drunkenly cutting down a tree in a parking lot, accidentally burning down their own house (and only realizing it by chasing fire trucks), dyeing a passed-out guy's hair green on St. Patrick's Day, being forced to shovel snow to pay off open bar tabs, and Frank getting hit with a frying pan in the name of "calming down."

To round it out, Alex, Matt, and Mike officially cement their legacy by creating the Caribou Handjob definition for Urban Dictionary — because of course they did.

If you're new here, welcome.
If you've been here all year, we're sorry.
Either way, pour a drink and enjoy the madness.

Michelle and Joanna return just days before Christmas and smack in the middle of Joanna's birthday season — which, according to Joanna, is a legally protected holiday requiring its own wrapping paper and absolutely no present splitting. Part A / Part B gifts can get fucked.

Mike is barely hanging on as fantasy football semifinals consume his soul, while Michelle and Joanna are fully entertained by themselves and proudly obnoxious about it. We uncover that half the reason Mike keeps coming to the studio is because Kati won't let him stay home on big football weekends, and honestly… fair.

Michelle reveals she spent an entire week covered in hives, possibly triggered by a night out with Joanna and Alex — or maybe karma. The itching got so bad she had to remove her bra at work, which immediately sends Alex spiraling into hopeful theories about lactose intolerance so he can finally roast her for eating vegan cheese.

The Dance Dads take over a sports bar for Thursday Night Football, only to discover it's also karaoke night — a cruel and unusual punishment no one asked for. Joanna quizzes the group on best gifts ever, forgets almost everything Alex has given her (except the party bus rentals), recalls being disappointed that the Chunnel wasn't see-through, and admits she expected to look up and see the ocean.

Venmo comments get spicy, "pretend sportsball" is officially canon, and things wrap up with an honest discussion about fairy porn, vivid descriptions, and why Michelle and Joanna keep turning pages.

It's loud, it's messy, it's inappropriate — and it's exactly what a platinum hangover feels like.

Just Mike and Alex this week, and somehow — against all odds — they're both in decent shape. That clock is ticking. With busy weeks ahead, no home-cooked meals in sight, and sore muscles already setting in, they crack a 90-proof bottle and brace for impact.

The guys spiral into complete disbelief over a long-retired quarterback suddenly back under center, debating whether we're about to witness a miracle, a massacre, or a full-on medical timeout. Would you be more worried as a Seattle coach about what you're about to do to him… or what he might actually do to you? Also: should anyone over a certain age be allowed to run the tush push?

Chaos peaks as Alex breaks down his unforgettable run as Mother Ginger — free drinks in full makeup, terrifying civilians and small dogs, wardrobe malfunctions no one asked for, mystery soreness from "barely dancing," and a pink beard spray that refuses to leave. A week later. Still pink.

Add in a legendary troll job from a gambling app, some sympathy for quarterbacks getting jumped by a retiree, and a pour that quietly turns into the highest-honored bottle we've ever reviewed… and you've got an episode that delivers pain, pride, and proof that good things sometimes come in affordable bottles.

Jackson returns to Whiskey n Whine fresh off Thanksgiving break and somehow manages to turn a quiet holiday into a full-on adventure. Mike finally gets the year off from hosting — no dishes, no stress, just drinks… the lucky bastard. Meanwhile, Madi hosts her first Arizona Thanksgiving, where Amazon apparently supplied the entire meal. Jackson immediately demands a family trade.

Alex survived 20 people at his house, plus a mildly passive-aggressive roasting pan drop-off from his mother-in-law — only for her turkey to come out dry. Victory for Team Alex.

Jackson confesses to eating two pumpkin pies solo, freezing back home because San Diego has ruined him, and pledging a fraternity where his life now includes serenades, whipped cream, and one "almost kidnapped to Mexico" event. Oh — and he learns why you never cross the border for a donkey show.

We also break down Jackson's questionable pickup lines ("I have furry cows"), his friends sabotaging those lines ("tell her what you do with the cattle"), Mike missing his chance to hang in San Diego, and Alex getting knocked out of both fantasy leagues.

To top it off, the guys taste Rebel Full Proof Bourbon, and it earns a Gold from Whiskey n Whine.

It's a warm fall Sunday in the Whiskey n Whine studio — the kind of night made for a crackling fireplace, a glass of something decent, and definitely not what shows up on the table. Mark, known friend of the show and newly crowned Agent of Chaos, drops off a mysterious gift for the podcast: an entire advent calendar filled with Malört. Yes, all 24 days. Yes, that Malört. Yes, we question our friendships.

Since drinking Malört every day would violate both medical science and the Geneva Convention, the guys decide to re-gift the horror straight to Tapphoria, who will now enjoy (or suffer) a daily Malört surprise all December long. Naturally, Alex, Mike, and Cort call Mark live on air to offer their heartfelt "gratitude," which may or may not be laced with emotional distress.

Meanwhile, we learn that John and Dawn basically moved into Tapphoria for the weekend while their floors were being refinished — raising questions about bar-based residency laws and loyalty punch cards.

The trio also announces a major seasonal event: all three generations of Mother Ginger will be performing in The Nutcracker this year. If you've ever wanted a photo with Alex, Mike, and Cort standing inside comically enormous dresses like a lineup of festive Russian nesting dolls, the time has come.

Finally, Alex attempts to bribe his way into a fantasy football advantage over Mike next week, but confidence is high and trash talk is higher. Will bribery work? Will Malört take another victim? Will the Mother Ginger dress hold up under the weight of generational trauma? Tune in to find out.