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Three million downloads, A Maui look-a-like contest, a hula dancing festival, a regional liquor contest, Diet Coke Armageddon, proof of Kung Fu Tommy, more questions for Coach, how to make a noose, playing with bear spray, beating my girlfriend on Twitch, DIY home defense, throwing away kids’ toys, an erotic story from a real man, the tyranny of fake gasps, Madcucks gives a weak book update, the heart rate monitor, the needle in the cable stack, what to do with THE LETTER, not the best beer combo, a soft I told you so, and a sudden power outage; all that and more this week on The Dick Show!

Have you been a victim of fake gasping? If so, I can help. One of the largest issues in existence that I brought into Bonus Episode 11 exploded in my social media pants last week and today I try to scrub out the aftermath. Here is the Tweet. Read the responses and know that you are not alone, but first…

What has a woman in your life fake gasped about today? I’m listening. — Dick Masterson (@dickmasterson) May 17, 2017

There are only so many minutes left in your life–too many actually. That’s why I barely feel anything wasting a couple thousand of them here and there watching other people play video games, or jerking off more than twice in a day, or reading about #PizzaGate until like three in the morning and then trying to smoothly work it into a conversation the next day with all the subtlety of shitting in someone else’s pants while they’re wearing them. There are also a finite number of women you’re going to have sex with in the rest of your life, but I’ve traded so much of the former (time) to maximize the latter (touching a boob), and then the reverse once I got what I thought I wanted, and then the reverse again when I got that, and so on, I’m not convinced there’s too many of either. However, what I’m absolutely certain of–as certain as I am that that #PizzaGate joke is going to piss some people off, is that there is a far more finite number of frosty, delicious McDonald’s Diet Cokes that I have left to drink in my life on the hottest goddamn day of the year after sitting outside all day, and then having a long drive. So finite are those remaining Diet Cokes in fact, that the next time the drive thru person swaps one out with its degenerate, sugar-soaked cousin Regular Coke, I’m going to discover if reality is a simulation or not, because I will hit them so hard, the universe will crash.

In other news, after last episode, some very disturbed people: Madcucks and Sean’s brother, sent in their suggestions for what I should do with the Nuclear Goss Bomb. I’m going to list them here just to make it easier for the boys over at the Dick Show Wiki to keep track:

Get an English professor to grade it.

Get a relationship counsellor to blame it for something.

Get a psychologist to analyze it.

Get high school girls to react to it.

Get a handwriting expert to professionally lie about it.

Make a billboard out of it.

Make a Madlibs out of it.

“Dear John” starring Judd Hirsch ran for four seasons and each one was funnier than the last. I don’t see why this break-up letter can’t do the same.

Jim Schmatz, the creator of Dickles and the Adam Nash T-shirts that haunted Road Rage: Philly, sent in this masterpiece based on the double Risky Business evening Coach and I had after the show.



Here’s the Road Rage: Philly T-shirt I was wearing during the broadcast, created by Felipe Protski. If you want one, there are a couple left at the Dick Store!



And some Dick Pics!



And for this thumbnail by Nope.wmv, you’re welcome!



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