Episode 75 – Dick on LA Phil

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The Ballad of LA Phil, Cab Calloway’s corpse and the Chicago scat man championships, John Stamos is a terrible singer, Boneitis draws my fursona, the Great Pyramid according to Bill Guy, how to flip eggs over easy, Kevin Spacey puts a stop to a pretend female president, Madame Nash calls in with a meme-based game–and then calls back again to complain about it, some facts about Cuck Norris, Jamie and Layc sit next to each other, a very bitter World Series loss against Houston, annoying girls who have alcoholism, noisy windshield wipers, and Sean gets a T-shirt; all that and more this week on The Dick Show!

Asterios Kokkinos
Author of Toys "4" Cheap, Billboard charting artist. Host of the Science Friction podcast.
Is a Rage!

Not a Rage.
Layc Nichole
Playmate, Journalist.
Is a Rage!

Not a Rage.
Jamie Lynn Hughes
Ms. Bikini Universe Pro, personal trainer, the best at almost being the best.
Is a Rage!

Not a Rage.
See All Co-Hosts


There’s less than a month until Road Rage: Chicago and things are already so epically insane to the extreme that the venue made me get insurance! Madcucks is rehearsing the Nuclear Goss Bomb, Peach has taken her gloves off, and I have unleashed the furries onto the Apollo theater, December 2nd, 18+, cash-only bar. Buy your tickets now so you don’t miss the #1 Dick and Sean in Chicago-based event of the year!

There’s nothing quite as satisfying in life as seeing a beautiful man fail. The chain-reaction of disappointment and self-loathing that wakes a mob from a dream, offering a robe to the nude, a viral video to the drunk, the cringe of ten thousands that it takes to dethrone an oblivious king–disenfranchisement spreading like math among the believers and the duped and tethering the surreal to the real again, rendering life momentarily human. It’s what happens when a hunk like John Stamos can’t sing, which I took great pleasure in last weekend during a live Willy Wonka celebrity croon-fest at the Hollywood Bowl, and which I take even greater pleasure in by the day with each and every revelation of sexual grotesquery and toxic tacicity that is Hollywood’s Anti-Life equation. Hollywood has taken so much from us, churning even the smallest quantum of our attention and identity into money like a distributed cryptocurrency mining consortium, and giving only memes in return. It’s deeply satisfying to see even a little bit taken from them.

In the fictional universe of House of Cards, there existed a fictional Dick Masterson who wrote about eating his book if one day a woman were to become president. Imagine his anxiety as the devious Frank Underwood worked his way through an increasingly uninspired series of political rivals and convenient dei ex machina, the latest of which would end with a Overton Window punting storyline of putting his wife in the White House. He’d have to eat his book. And then to be saved at the last moment by a Caligulan trope in an alternate dimension with a PR response that made even less sense than the ones in your fictional universe, “Maybe I did it, but I’m gay.”

There’s nothing quite as satisfying.

Here is my fursona created by Boneitis. I was expecting it to look more like and be BoJack Horseman.


Grant Mooney returns with an all-new track called “Patreon Dot Com Slash Asterios”!

Hazencruz sends in “Dick is Tweetin”, although I am not Tweeting because I am a Gab now.

Kody Yardley sends in Juantum Leap, the tale of a man who traveled across space and time and liquor to stop a roomful of people from getting pissed on, hoping that each leap would be his leap home.

And Devon Oleachea reunites me with my first love, Playboy July 1989

And the 3D printed light up gifts!

Thumbnail to welcome your new o-fur-loards, by Brandon of Maximum! Panic.