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Souvenir cups, free water, Defensive architecture, head banging while banging, Lowtax’s new podcast: Murder the Internet, Denzel does yoga, my spoon collection, WarOfTheFanBoys disavows Cat Girl, my dad tells a story about a stock tip, “Kian Magaña”, performance art, Nick Offerman, being hit on the shin by a bike pedal, sister twister guilt, the front of your dick, Lettuce Jones is free, more on the Wiener Republic, and I am accosted by a zombie DickHead; all that and more this week on The Dick Show!

Today, the See You Next Tuesday Podcast Network welcomes a new show to its illustrious line-up, Lowtax’s Murder the Internet. The Internet gets worse every year. And every time you think it can’t get any worse, it does, but in a new and miserable way. It’s a sort of suburban sprawl, where all the early tube pioneers who had a passion for the World Wide West, made it interesting and gave it personality, and then scientists–who are always lying to us, kept figuring out new and cheaper ways to pump internet into the hands of the washed and boring masses, the Minions memers and the silicon valley schemers, the Internet was gradually mulched and sanitized under the extreme heat of exposure, processed by apps and venture capital, and ruined by ubiquity. It’s time someone put it out of its misery. Welcome to Murder the Internet, a show in which internet icon Lowtax Kyanka and his side-kick bring in things on the internet that deserve to be murdered. I hope they trademarked that! The first episode is P for Podcasts. I enjoyed it.

The Laffer curve describes a maximum point of efficiency in taxation is theft, wherein more of it will drive down labor and thus revenue and less theft will not encourage labor, and thus result in less revenue. It’s a math describing the optimal point at which to fuck us. There’s a similar principle in business. And I don’t know what it’s called or what it looks like, but I know that right at the very tip, at the maximum point of me getting fucked, is the souvenir cup. It’s a flimsy, shitty, poorly screen printed tumbler of failure that you have to buy if you want a man-sized drink of anything at a place you’re only at to make someone else happy. It’s the Dad-Laffer curve, where the closer an activity resembles something a dad might enjoy, the higher is the likelihood of someone trying to fuck you out of more money–But Dad isn’t laughing.

I also bring in Defensive Architecture, the process of adding metal spikes, knobs, plates, hinges, slats, bolts, gremlins, AIDS needles, the hands of a weird pervert, puddles that may or may not be urine, cat shit, your own tombstone, a picture of your mom as a child, a sign that says “a guy with a small dick sits here”, and giant, greased-up dildos, to any flat surface for the sole purpose of ruining comfortable places to sit. Oh yea, that and making homeless people’s lives just that much more fucking miserable. If there’s any group of people who don’t have time in their day to organize a resistance movement to combat the removal of places to sit down, it’s people who need a place to sit down in public. They made it so you have to bring your own bag to the grocery store, now you have to bring your own bench to the bus. I look forward to the day they finally shut off the grid in the name of going green and you have to ride a bicycle to power your TV set so some chuckle-fuck in a glimmering grey news suit can tell you how grateful you should be.

Defensive Architecture

Also, my dad tells a story about a stock tip I have never heard him tell before.

Next week, Count Dankula is calling in. We’ll be talking about how to train your dog.

BOOM, BAP, POW theme by vistas and lakembra.



A thumbnail that’s not a scam when I do it by Brandon of Maximum! Panic.



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