Renting the police, how to go bald, Andy Signore #MeToo’s disaster one year out, Hugging the Cactus, second hand drinking, female revenge porn, a deal to make with the devil, chicks who are jelly, smart phones and knee-capping of critical thinking, the future is side-effects, my wager with Kiwi Chris, and Road Rage: Minneapolis tickets are on sale; all that and more this week on The Dick Show!
Titanic Prankster. Co-host of the Chris Cant Cast
Is a Rage!
Not a Rage.
Creator of Screen Junkies and Honest Trailers. Victim of a #MeToo hoax. Twitter | Patreon
Is a Rage!
Not a Rage.
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Calling all Dickheads, Racketeers, Eggy Soufflés, and Maxwell Kimballers…tickets for Road Rage: Minneapolis are now on sale! August 17th at the Varsity theater–the cavernous Varsity Theater–we will be bringing all the chaos and mayhem and science and rage that you love about The Dick Show to the Great White North. Bring your neighbors, bring your dates, bring your dogs, and bring your Tubmans because the bar is cash only and we do have a bar minimum, and join us for the greatest traveling road show the world–except Australia–has ever seen. We’re going to fill this bitch, we’re going to have a Nick-a-like contest, and we’re going to put the police I had to rent to good use! Get tickets now.
Critical thinking is overrated. It should be called shit-ical thinking, am I right?
Screen time results in a month-long reduction in your ability to think critically, says a study I bring in during today’s episode. Unfortunately, I’ve used a phone in the last month, so I don’t have the ability to discern its deeper meaning or implications. So I assume it has neither. And if it does, someone will figure it out for me.
Someone will figure out how many steps I need to take today. Someone will figure out what household products are currently shrinking my dick. Someone will figure out what is and what is not a concentration camp. Someone will figure out if men and women can be friends. Someone will figure out what I need to be worried about. And they’ll let me know. And I’ll be here on my screen waiting to hear about it.
If the Doomers are right, if things really are worse now than they were before, and accelerating, then I’ll hear about it, I’m sure. But I’ve got bigger things to worry about. I want to stop eating so much. I want to get fit. I want to get a girlfriend. I want to learn skills. I want to stop being such a whore. I want to have a family and be a loner and colonize other planets and destroy the world. I want to be a hero for someone, for everyone. I want to do the little things every day, and do the big things every day. I want to die in a fury of incandescent rage. I want to stop thinking in a fury of incoherent rage. I want to do something with my life, with the world, on the world, in the world, but I just can’t think of what.
I can’t think. Therefore, I can’t.
It’s the implication of ideals that determine their survival. And the implication is a function of the process of thinking–at least it might be. Someone who has not used a phone in their life will have to let me know. As that ability erodes, dumber ideas survive. The blunt ideas survive. The simple ones. The ugly ones. The ones made of rudimentary thoughts and emotions, that can latch onto either and survive.
Why would a woman make up a story about sexual assault?
But we’ve become too fat to eat our way out of it now. Too small-dicked to fuck our way out of it. Too informed to know any better, and too stupid to think of the implications. All questions are rhetorical questions and all answers are rhetorical answers. Because the alternatives are too complicated and no one knows what to do with them anymore.
As mentioned in the show, here is Andy Signore’s video covering the #MeToo and sexual assault accusations made against him, the dog-piling on by his friends colleagues in comedy, and his ultimate vindication in the form of text messages and nudie pics. It’s a satisfying video. Worth seventeen minutes.
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