Hotel Waffles, London, Kryptonite | Monday Morning Podcast 7-14-25

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Hey, what's going on?

It's Bill Burr, and it's time for the Monday morning podcast for Monday,

July 14th.

What's going on?

How are you?

How's it going?

Ah, Jesus Christ.

I don't want to fucking do this.

I don't have anything

of significance

to talk about

throughout the entire history of this podcast.

I'm staying at the airport.

I'm at the fucking airport.

You know what's funny is whenever you stay at the airport, like whenever I stay at a hotel at the airport, or whenever I see a hotel at the airport, I go,

that's the way to fucking do it.

So then the stress of making your flight is gone.

Because you just grab your bags, you go downstairs, and then you're at the airport.

There's no travel.

We get it, Bill.

You're staying at the airport.

All right, you know,

trying to paint a picture.

It is a little jarring, though.

To wake up, you know, go down to the waffle maker,

you know,

half asleep, trying to remember if you flipped it over.

You know that waffle one, you know, you pour it, you know, and then you got to like halfway through it, you got to flip it over.

Is that right?

Do you have to to do that?

The whole thing's hot.

Why would you flip it over?

I don't know.

These are just fucking vague memories coming back.

Like when I used to do college gigs.

I've done a college gig in forever.

I'd love to do a college gig.

I haven't done one in fucking forever.

And I remember one of the luxuries back in the day when I would do a college gig in the middle of fucking nowhere

is

when I went to check in

in that sad underfurnished lobby

of whatever fucking best Western, Super 8,

you know,

you know, the minimalist hotel chains, Motel 6.

No one ever had the courage to go below 6.

Have you noticed that?

Super eight, motel six.

And everybody sat there for a second.

Are they going to do it?

Are they going to do it?

Are they going to go Motor Lodge four?

No one ever had the courage to go that low.

So you'd go in there,

and if they had a fucking waffle maker,

like everybody that checked in, that was your beacon of light.

That was the way out of the tunnel.

I mean, mean, they had a fucking carpet in those hotels that was like worse than the Astro Turf at Veterans Stadium in Philadelphia back in the day.

That's all you used to hear about.

Like it was basically playing in a fucking parking lot.

And the amount of people that came in there hammered,

carrying like a half fucking full case of like natty light or whatever fucking

piss they were drinking that night night to take the edge off of whatever they did in the parking lot or down the road at some bar

that had the heads of animals with antlers on it, right?

You're going to those fucking places.

Hunters.

You know, and they gotta have the stupid heads of the fucking thing.

It's like, oh, did you kill that?

Well, yeah, you had a gun.

It didn't.

You shot an unarmed deer, you fucking cunt.

All right, go make your venison sandwich.

You don't got to make a mockery of the thing.

Look what I did.

It's like, Jesus Christ, dude, get a fucking opening line.

Learn how to hit on a woman.

Got to put some fucking

beaver head up on the goddamn wall.

The fuckers, act like you've been there.

Oh, did you shoot that varmint?

Well, that's amazing.

Did you just one shot?

Or do you have to shoot a couple of times, you cunt?

You got a fucking scope on it?

It's got one of those little fucking red things.

I mean,

how much more advantage do you need?

You dress like grass in a shrub?

Of course it didn't see you.

Walked right up to it and you shot it right in the fucking face.

Fantastic.

You know how to do that.

That's a great skill.

It is a great skill if for some reason the supermarkets run out of food.

That's a fantastic fucking skill, and I respect it.

But you don't got to put the fucking head on the wall.

I respect fishermen more

because they're going out to sea,

right?

What do they have?

They're not out there fucking shooting the fish, going, come here, cake, cake, cake.

They're not out there fucking dressed like water.

You know, they're not fucking shooting death charges off the back of the boat.

They got a fucking rod and reel.

Old school.

I mean, they do have a fish finder.

Let's be honest.

You know, and so many of them go around calling people fucking snowflakes.

It's like, what about all your fucking...

You got more shit to help you kill that fucking thing than

fucking golfers.

You ever go on a fucking golf course, those fucking assholes?

They got a scope, too.

Like, they got to shoot something.

Here's the thing, too.

I'm not going Peter here.

I'm not saying that you shouldn't shoot an unarmed animal if you want to go make yourself a fucking, you know,

badger slider, whatever the fuck it is you want to do.

I think it's fantastic that you know how to do that.

That you know how to, you know,

put deer urine behind your ear.

Like, how many more fucking advantages do you need

with your little stupid fucking collapsible treehouse that you put up there and you fucking sit there with your dumb fucking duck boots on?

Ever seen those fucking boots?

You can literally walk into a river and your feet don't get wet.

It's like, what are we doing here?

Back in the day, I mean, there's just shit you had to go through.

I still think, like, at the end of the day, the bow and arrow is the way to go.

It just is.

It's quiet,

doesn't make your ears ring afterwards.

I don't know.

Like, if you're going to kill your neighbor, I mean, a bow and arrow,

who heard it?

Nobody.

You just wait every morning, you know, you just sitting across the street.

You're getting his tendencies down.

Every morning he comes out in his robe and slippers, walks all the way down to the end of the driveway to get the paper.

Nobody gets the paper anymore.

It's got to be hard to kill your neighbor.

Back in the day, you didn't have to go in the person's house to kill your neighbor.

You're just waiting for him to come walking down

with his alcoholic legs.

You know, those skinny, pasty fucking legs.

And then, you know, from the waist up, you're shaped like a fucking keg of beer.

Old highball Harry coming down there, him and his wife haven't had sex

since the Nixon administration.

Somehow they still stay together.

Both of them, bleary-eyed.

Him with the booze,

her with her, quote, knitting club that she goes to.

You guys knit for a long time, don't you, honey?

Pretty dolled up to go knitting.

Anyway, she comes down at the end of the driveway.

That stupid fucking robe

doesn't even go down to his knees.

You know, it's the old school male bathrobe.

You actually dress like a whore.

You just didn't know it.

Right?

You come down and they do that awful, like, bend at the waist as you fucking bend your knees at the same time.

That awkward, sort of, like...

I can't do a full squat to get this piece of paper and I can't fully

bend over to get the newspaper.

So I got to do like,

I got to put the responsibility on my knees and my lower back.

50-50, okay?

The knees, if you can get me down to here, I can bend down the rest of the way and pick this up.

Right?

And you're across the street going, that's where I'm going to get him.

That's when I'm going to get him.

I'm going to get him right after he stands upright.

And he has to take that breath of like, all right, I did it.

I didn't face plant, knock myself out.

That's when you get him, right in the chest.

And he goes down right next to his fucking Mercury maquis

You know what's perfect

What would be perfect is right as you release the arrow the automatic sprinklers went on

so it went

right as they turn on that

that's right when the fucking arrow is cutting through the wind.

That's how you used to take out a CEO back in the day.

And they'd blame it on these goddamn kids.

And no one knew that it was actually, it was a professional hit from a jealous CEO across the street that coveted whatever country, whatever shit-brown, earth-toned, fucking four-door sedan, full-size V8 American car that that man was given by his company.

Anyway,

plowing ahead.

I yeah, I'm in a fucking, I'm like beyond jet-lagged.

I'm still,

I had a fucking nightmare

last night.

I was still doing Glen Gary, Glenn Ross.

I showed up really late.

I showed up so late, I said, let my understudy do it.

And they said, fine.

And then I thought,

but wait a minute.

Then I'll miss a show.

I made a promise that I would not miss one show.

I made a promise to me,

right?

And I go, no, no, no, fuck it.

I'll do it.

I'll do it.

And it's like, you're on in five.

I go, don't worry about it.

Don't worry about it.

I ran downstairs to get dressed.

And for some reason, it was a completely different outfit it was very flamboyant had this big silk like barney miller like level fat tie

um

it was just a completely different suit

and i was like what the did we change what decade this thing is going on

and

then i was just asleep And I didn't have the suit on.

I was asleep, just fucking in a bed, you know,

t-shirt and underwears.

And then they came knocking on the door.

They're like, What the fuck are you doing?

They're, you know, the

first scene's about to end.

You're on next.

And I was like, fuck, I can't find the suit.

They're like, what do you mean you can't find the suit?

And they had changed like a bunch of lines.

And I was like, I don't know these words.

And I go, can you have my own study door?

They go, we already sent him home.

I go, I think you sent him home in the second act.

Right?

And I fucking woke up in a panic.

And I actually ran the lines.

I still know them.

I'm surprised.

I thought I was going to mess up a few of them.

Just came right back.

Came right the fuck back.

Anyway, so

I was.

I was on the Instagram there.

And I saw this black dude on there and he's going, you know what's fucked up is

he goes, I think he said Hitler killed a million white people and he's considered the most evil person on the planet.

And I'm like, he killed six million and that was just Jewish people.

For some reason, they don't count the others.

Like that dude was not stopping, by the way, either.

You know, it's so funny, the amount of white people that are like neo-Nazis.

And it's like, dude, he would have killed you too.

He would have killed you too.

He considered like all of the Slavic people,

like all Eastern Europe, he considered them mongrel races of white people.

Like that guy was not stopping.

And while simultaneously being one of the ugliest human beings

ever,

I actually know a person like that.

One of the most racist people I've ever met, slash, one of the most ugliest looking people I've ever seen.

You want to be like, dude, it's not the world's fault that you're ugly.

All right?

Just, you know,

God didn't care enough to make you symmetrical.

I, I don't, it's like,

it's not these other people's fault.

So he goes, Hitler killed one million people,

which is fucking hilarious that he said that because then he went on to talk about King Leopold of Belgium, which I never heard of.

Evidently, according to this guy, he goes, he killed 20 million black people in the Congo.

And he's never even brought up.

You know?

And

so I was like, all right, I got to read up on this guy.

And it was funny to me that he didn't, like, he's as he's bitching, but they don't even know how many fucking guys this guy killed, and then he doesn't know how many guys the other guy killed.

So it's like, sort of accidental comedy.

And I just fucking read on this guy.

And he just somehow decided out of the fucking blue that like whatever was in the Congo belonged to him.

And he just made these people dig it out of the ground and he made all of this fucking money and if they didn't get enough rubber or whatever he would cut their fucking hands off.

I mean this is the shit that has been going on

forever.

And all of these these fucking billionaires, kings, whatever they're called during that era, they just fucking they don't give a fuck.

All of it is, you know, traveling the world.

What you realize is how beautiful it is, how great people are, and that there's plenty

for everybody.

But there's this handful of psycho-cunts that want it all for themselves while they're alive.

And somehow, they got us all looking at each other like we're the problem.

It's like, dude, it's you.

And that's what the fuck, they're doing it again.

They're doing it again with this illegal immigrants.

Like, this is somehow going to make the working man's life better.

It isn't.

Your problem is not illegal immigrants.

It's the people you work for.

They don't want to pay you.

They want to pay you as little as possible.

They want to phase you out.

They want to move the factory.

to go find other people that they can pay even less.

It's the same fucking game over and over and over and over and over again.

And what do they do?

What do they do when you start bitching about, hey man, what the fuck?

I'm working all month and I still can't make my rent.

It's the Mexicans, it's the Chinese, it's those people.

It's the people that don't look like you.

It's the people in another country that you can't fucking talk to.

No, motherfucker, it's you.

You fucking greedy cunt.

What kind of a fucking person could do that?

Kind of a fucking piece of shit let me ask you this what kind of a thing makes that

a loving god gives you our current leadership the most heartless fucking people have

you know not saying that the other ones haven't been heartless they're all fucking dirtbags it's it's just how the game is set up it just gets shadier and shadier the higher up the ladder you go and it just weeds out all decent people

and then anybody like the buzzword in my country,

depending on where you're listening for, is anytime anybody comes along as a leader that wants to do something for the working man, they're immediately labeled a communist,

you know, racist, homophobe, anti-Semite, da-da-da-da-da.

They try to fucking tar and feather him.

Because what?

He thinks the working man should be able to work.

And fucking,

all middle-class people are asking, like, listen, man, I don't have an idea for a business.

I don't want to run a fucking business.

I'll come work for you.

Whatever your fucking dream is, I'll help you make it happen.

Just give me enough fucking money where my kids are all right.

I can make my fucking rent.

I can go to a fucking game.

Have a couple of beers.

Is that asking too much?

To them, it is.

This is where you make your point, and then you say it again.

To them, it is.

And then you do a dramatic, like pause.

And it's not a a dramatic pause.

What it really is, is you're searching for the words.

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Anyway, so I did my gig in Abu Dhabi.

When I say Abu, you say Dabi, Abu.

I went there and

went there with Bianca Christofao, man.

Oh my God,

we had the best fucking time.

Just laughing our asses off, like beyond fucking jet-lagged.

You know, I was just getting used to fucking...

trying to get used to the time in England and then I flew further east,

chopped off another three hours.

I fucking landed there.

I didn't land there.

The pilot landed there

and

I couldn't sleep on the fucking plane.

And I got there.

We got in the hotel about eight in the morning, and I went to sleep and woke up at five at night.

And I was just like, what the fuck?

I hate doing that.

I hate sleeping like that late and then having like two hours later I'm on stage doing stand-up.

It's fucking weird.

That only happened to me one time in the States.

And it was one of the greatest nights of my life, but I was ashamed when I was on stage.

It was me, Verzee, and Bartnick.

And we were in Chicago playing the Chicago theater.

And we fucking went out to this club, the Liars Club.

and drank and listened to ACDC.

They were playing this music.

I was fucking way.

This this was towards the end of my drinking.

I

was one of the drunkest I'd ever been.

And I woke up at five,

like five-something, 5.15.

And I was like, what the fuck?

And I ordered room service.

And like within two hours of that, like, and then I got eight, you know, whatever time it took, but an hour, about 90 minutes later, probably,

i was on stage at the chicago theater

hey how you guys doing i was like what

the i the level of shame i felt

when i was on stage i was just out there looking like These fucking people worked.

They already worked.

They put in a full fucking day.

Now, I know that that happens every night anyways, because I work nights and the people that come out to see me, generally speaking, they work during the day.

But there was just something about the fact that they worked an entire day that I slept through.

And then I woke up and they came out to listen to me.

I should have been sitting in the crowd.

They should have all been on stage taking turns reading me the riot act about how fucking irresponsible I was.

That's why wherever I was on the alcoholic spectrum never

took root.

It was the shame.

The fucking shame of it.

I was just like, I can't do this.

I cannot fucking do this.

Yeah, that was bad.

And I was also supposed to go to this drum place and rehearse these drums because I had to play with these.

I think I was playing on a Dean Del Rey thing at the El Rey on Wiltshire.

And I didn't rehearse.

And then I showed up for fucking

rehearsal, and I sucked.

And then I fucking got it together before the actual gig, but it was, it was bad.

It was bad.

Anyway, I don't even know what the fuck I'm babbling about here.

Babbling.

Babbling.

All right,

let's do some reads here.

I didn't even get in.

I didn't even get in.

No, no, fuck the reads for a second.

Hang on a second.

I fucking

ended up going on stage in Abu Dhabi.

This is the second time I played there.

And the first time I played there, I absolutely loved the crowd and the people.

I had such a good time.

So now I'm coming back the second time.

And you're thinking, like, all right,

sorry.

Been fighting off that yarn for 10 minutes.

Let's see.

Was that a fluke?

Did I just happen to have a good show?

Did I just happen to vibe with those people?

And now I'm going to come back and then I'm going to see what the real deal is.

No, went up again,

had a fucking great time.

I don't know.

It's like one of my favorite gigs

I've done, just as far as like being that far away from

where I live, where I grew up, all this information that was put into my head that I can go on the other side of the world and still vibe with people is so fucking cool.

That and when I did

Mumbai,

when I went to India, that was another fun one.

Like, how the fuck am I all the way over here?

And I'm saying shit, and they're laughing, and they're getting it.

It's like, oh, that's right.

That's right, because people are people, because people are fucking cool.

And if it wasn't for a handful of greedy cunts in the fucking world trying to get us all to hate each other and at each other's throats instead of working together,

imagine that world.

We all fucking work together.

And the only competition you watch is like sports.

You know, or a room full of nerds with their fucking Rubik's cubes.

Isn't that amazing?

You got to give it up to the fucking nerd that still can solve a Rubik's Cube in like under a second.

You know what I mean?

That's like the rock stars that still have that curly cord leading to their amp.

You know what I mean?

They just, that's the nerd version of fucking going analog and just kicking it old school, like just saying, fuck video games,

you know,

fuck dressing up like

a

pheasant

and going to a motel six with other people dressed like turkeys and having some fucking nerd orgy, whatever they do.

Am I putting furries in with nerds?

Are furries the nerds of sex addicts?

I think they are because there's nothing sexy about what the fuck they do.

And I actually, to this day, I kind of refuse to acknowledge.

You know, when people don't acknowledge a genocide, I don't acknowledge that furries exist.

What if I ran for political office and that was the thing that they always tried

to get me on?

Mr.

Burr,

do you acknowledge that furries exist?

And I'm just something.

Listen, I'm not going to answer that, okay?

I came here to talk about the issues that affected.

Mr.

Burr,

in your district, there was a bunch of people dressed like beavers banging each other

outside of a red roof inn.

And

according to our sources, you sent...

a bunch of police officers down.

Dude, what about that fucking police chief down in Florida saying if you throw fucking rocks at the police, we will shoot you dead, graveyard dead, and your family members will come down and pick up your remains.

What in the fuck kind of world are we living in?

Is anybody out there

trying to fucking bring the boiling water down to a simmer?

It's just, is every person in a position of power a fucking meathead?

I mean, I don't know.

I imagine a lot of police officers around the country saw that and cringed, going, like, that is not the like, how about de-escalating?

Is anybody trying to de-escalate a situation?

If you throw a rock, you will be shot dead.

It's like,

what about the people around it?

What if you miss?

Then what are you going to do?

You're going to mount the person's fucking head down in the bar next to the goddamn deal.

Ah, look at the callback.

I'm waking up, people.

That was a callback.

Woo!

All right, let's get into the reads here.

Oh, look who's back.

Look who's back.

Like when fucking J-Lo and Ben got back together.

It's meundies.

We're back together, everybody, on the Monday morning podcast.

Budo, doot, doot, meundies.

Meundis, don't go to fucking Florida.

Budo doot doot, meundies, meundis.

What if you're just playing catch?

Miundies.

I will shoot you graveyard dead.

Why don't you fucking get on a fucking treadmill before you're fucking graveyard dead, you fat fuck?

Your job's to protect and serve, not to fucking escalate already difficult situations in your own goddamn country, you fucking moron.

Saying, I'm going to go out and kill somebody.

He's going to say that.

He's got a gun and a badge, so nothing will happen to him.

All right, meandies.

Okay, we all know this summer is amazing.

Sunshine, road trips, beach days.

But can we be honest for a second?

It's time to talk about jockic.

No, kidding.

Remember jockic?

Did they cure that?

I don't remember the last time I saw a commercial about that.

It also means

one thing: sweat.

And if you're not wearing the right right underwear, that's right.

Real uncomfortable, real fast.

Sweaty balls.

It's like you're already not going to listen to her dumb story.

What if you're actually thinking about, like, oh no, man, are my balls going to be roasting during this shit?

Then you really don't know what she's talking about.

And then what happens?

Then what happens?

She asks a question.

You don't know what to say.

You got to go neutral.

What do you do?

What do you do when you just sort of drift off?

I used to do a bit about this.

When a woman's telling a story and she drifts off and then she pauses.

And you're sitting there going, like,

oh, fuck, was that the end of the story?

Or did she just ask the question?

What do you do, right?

You can't say yes, you can't say no.

You got to go with something neutral.

You just go, I mean, what the fuck are you going to do?

You ain't even listening.

Well, you fucking, it's not a story.

It's a mini-series.

This should be like that Netfix clock every fucking three minutes.

Do you want to listen to the next leg of this fucking meandering story?

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Alright, let's get to the

let's get to the to the to the to the reads here.

Names people call you.

Hi, Bill.

Huge fan from India.

How come people call you

names like blue balls and bitch tits?

It's actually red balls.

Does it not get a bit annoying after a while?

Love your work and hope to see you in India again.

No, I actually think it's fucking hilarious.

Because

every time I think people have run out of ways to insult me, not only do they come up with a new one, they come up with one that's even funnier and more creative.

So

I like it.

I like it.

I don't know.

And I have to be honest with you, how funny the average person is now

because of of social media, and like I've said this before, but like the comment sections

that

oh my god,

there was like four fat guys that were in a band, and then everybody was just coming up with the name of the band, Limp Brisket, and just all of these fucking hilarious.

I can't even remember them.

Like, some of the ones that they they they came up with were just like,

like I was sending them to other people, other comedians, and I, you know, comment section, and we would just dying fucking laughing.

I don't know.

So I like when they write in and make fun.

And I know that they're not being serious.

And even if somebody is, that's even funnier.

What's funnier than somebody hating you?

It's hilarious.

What a waste of fucking energy, especially if I don't even know you.

Yeah.

I mean, at least on my podcast, they're kind of like fucking around.

I got all kinds of people on the internet, you know, on the inner webs that, you know, don't like me because of something I said about fucking Luigi or because I'm with, you know, Nia or whatever.

They just don't like me.

So then they write all of this shit and it's always, you know, it's like, all right, you know, have fun with that.

Spend your day thinking about me and whatever the fuck I'm I don't know why you would do that.

I'm not wasting my time thinking about you.

But

I don't know.

I don't give a fuck.

Who cares?

People are just having fun.

All right.

Blue collar or not.

Hey, Billy, blue collar.

Need a former roofer's opinion.

I was never a roofer.

I was the grunt that brought the shingles up.

My buddy claims him working as a plumber is blue collar, but my working in retail at a hardware store loading trucks is not.

Okay.

Wow.

That's an interesting argument.

Oh, and by the way, his dad was the actual plumber, and he just assisted him when he was 10 to 16 years old.

He still says his work was more blue-collar than my loading.

What do you think?

Anyway, go fuck yourself.

Well, if by more blue-collar he means more difficult, yeah.

I would say unclogging giant turds out of fucking toilets with your dad is a lot more difficult than working in a fucking hardware.

What smells better than a hardware store?

It's fucking amazing.

I love that smell.

What is it?

You always smell rubber when you go in there from the fucking garden hoses and the tires on the lawnmowers and the wheelbarrows.

How old am I

that I still remember when tires were rubber on fucking lawnmowers?

I get what he's saying.

Like, I worked in a warehouse loading and unloading trucks.

But if somebody worked out in the sun, like landscaping, construction or anything like that, it becomes more blue-collar.

So as a plumber, you're working indoors like,

you know, somebody working at a hardware store.

But,

you know, I know a few people that

got into plumbing and some of the stories that they had about clogged up toilets, if we're going to say like degree of difficulty,

and then also like the level that people are like,

the high level of emotion.

Like if you're an electrician and you come over and somebody's power's out,

you know, somebody's just like, Yeah, you know, it's just sitting there, and all of a sudden lights went out, you know.

But if you come over there and there's like water leaking, like people are losing their house,

they're freaking the fuck out.

I would say, yeah, you're both blue-collar.

I mean, then what you should is this is what you should say to him.

Okay, so working in a hardware store.

So, what is that?

Is that a white-collar job?

Is it a baby blue-collar?

I don't know.

I don't know what to call it.

I can tell you this:

he's making more money.

Y'all should say he's making more fucking money than you are in a hardware store.

So, isn't he more white-collar?

That's one of those stupid debates that could

go on forever.

All right, I think my brain just did a shut off for a second and then came back on.

That's why I just stuttered there.

Wow.

I'm doing this podcast and I'm fucking going to go back to sleep.

Fuck trying to get acclimated over here.

All right, Kryptonite.

Hey, Billy, no beer.

I listened to your great podcast while I'm making my own comics

and your throwback show

from June 12, 2017 perked up my ears.

What do you mean you make your own, like comic books?

Or a comic strip?

Either way, that's cool.

Everyone knows you're not into comics and Star Wars, even though you're in them sometimes.

So there's no way you could know the convoluted history of kryptonite.

The listener was right

about

kryptons exploding, but you were right about its effects on humans.

Dude, what in the fuck are you talking about?

This was a podcast that was eight years ago.

Can you I need a little more backstory?

And it's eight years later.

I don't know my the effect of Krypton

on fucking humans.

Oh, you mean like on Superman?

Anyway, the story I read was that the co-creator of Superman, Jerry Siegel, was being phased out by DC even though he still wrote some great Superman stories well into the 50s.

The other co-creator was already phased out and working at a supermarket.

These greedy cunts.

They're all cunts.

They bring you a superhero character that's making you millions of dollars, and then you, and that's not enough.

You don't appreciate him.

You got to figure a way to squeeze him out of it so you don't have to fucking pay him.

This is what these fucking people do.

And then they blame Mexicans.

It's you,

not them.

This might be why DC didn't use Siegel's original Kryptonite story that gave a human, Lois, Superman-like powers and permanently removed Clark's powers, giving both characters what they secretly wanted.

What are you talking about?

No, what it is, is they've exhausted ways Superman can fucking save people.

So then this is what they do in entertainment.

We'll do the same stories again, except this time it's a woman.

That's all they're doing.

And

what is he doing?

Fucking wearing a skirt that goes halfway down his ankles like Lois Lane.

Sitting at home making fucking

finger food.

Giving both characters what they secretly wanted.

What?

Superman didn't want to be Superman?

Dude, superheroes, why are they always so sad?

They're like the original, it's like grunge, they're the original like grunge fucking musicians.

Remember that Grunge came around and they just were just fucking sad.

It's like we're all sad.

You're gonna fucking drag us down with you.

Like Spider-Man.

I mean, his girlfriend was the most smoking hot chick any superhero ever got, I say.

That's my opinion.

That raven-haired with that fucking rack and those hips.

The fact that that son of a bitch went out and saved anybody with that at home is incredible.

Anyway.

So we continue on, giving them both what they secretly wanted.

Only a script of this survives online, and Kryptonite itself was invented for the radio show.

The actor wanted to take a vacation, so someone came up with Kryptonite,

which had Superman Superman suffering in a cave for two weeks while Batman and Robin sub

for soups in the storyline.

I know that reference.

That's Will Arnett

in

Lego Batman.

What's up, soups?

But Seagal himself thought kryptonite

should affect humans.

Oh, I see.

Nice work for a non-comic geek, Bill, but it just shows how the behind-the-scenes stuff can be as interesting as the comics themselves.

Thanks, and go fuck yourself.

That is like really interesting, but then it's, I don't like the part where they squeezed out the co-creators.

That's like when a company goes public,

and then eventually the people that buy it overpower them in the corporate room, and they vote the guy out, and then the guy that came up with it gets squeezed out.

They call it a hostile takeover.

They're just fucking awful people.

P.S., the artist that drew Peter Parker's girlfriend that you loved.

Oh, I'm still bringing it up so well in the 60s was John Romita, who set my standards for female beauty as well.

The standards is a drawing.

All right.

Chris Everett.

Okay, uh, Bill Burr Baggins.

Greetings from Plymouth, Mass.

And our cool-ass monument,

Plymouth Rock.

Last week you were talking about watching Chris Everett playing tennis in the 80s, and it instantly reminded me about watching NFL quarterback Jim Everett

beat up Jim Rome on TV for calling him Chris numerous times after being warned not to basically calling Jim a girl.

He called him Chrissy.

Yeah, yeah, that was like, he goes, I bet you won't say it now.

He's like, I bet I will.

He goes, I bet you won't.

He goes, Chrissy.

And then they stand up.

He pushed him over.

Yeah,

it was a great moment.

I enjoyed it.

Like, I don't understand why somebody who just talks about sports would be be going that hard at somebody who's actually playing them to that point and then actually trying to bully them.

Like,

where the fuck are you mentally right now?

I thought Jim Erts showed a lot of fucking restraint that he didn't fucking give him a couple of overhand rights.

Anyway, I was a kid when that happened, and sometimes the other kids would give me shit at school.

My folks used to tell me to ignore them or talk it out, but it rarely worked.

I saw Jim Rome

get smoked for talking shit on TV and instantly decided I'm not taking shit from bullies anymore.

That's fantastic.

A few days later a kid was giving me shit in a school hallway and was showing no signs of stopping.

I shoved him into the wall and he fell down to the ground, got up and strode away with watery eyes.

He never gave me shit after that.

School got so much easier after I started standing up for myself, all because of my man Jim Everett.

I love it.

Would you prefer your kid to handle a bully the Jim Everett way?

Absolutely.

Like politely telling the, oh, no, I thought you meant getting up and pushing.

Like politely telling the bully to relax than standing up for yourself or some other way.

No, that's the only way.

That's the only way they listen.

That's the only way they listen.

What does amaze me is the level of bullying that still kids get away with.

And I'm not talking about that cyber shit.

Which is something I do worry about as a parent because kids all want to fit in so they all want to be in the same chat room because if everybody's talking about that at school, you're fucking left out.

No, I've

always believed in sticking up for yourself, even if you have to lose the fight.

Just swing as hard as you can, punch them in the fucking face as hard as you fucking can.

At least get one in.

And even if you fucking turtle after that and get the shit kicked out of you, you know, that person's going home with some pain too.

It all depends.

It all be honest with you, it really depends on the situation

because there's a lot of psychos out there now.

So I don't know.

But if it's like some schoolyard shit and there's teachers around, you can get a few in, take a few, and then it's fucking over.

I mean, there was a bad incident in Missouri.

I'm thinking like St.

Louis, where, you know, because you're also dealing with kids and their brains aren't fully formed and they don't understand.

That's the danger right now, like

out there

because the level of information on how to fight, forget about how the UFC like combined

all of these different styles.

Like

the level that fighting has gone to,

everything was like separated before like mixed martial arts and UFC was just like, I do taekwondo, I'm a boxer, I'm a wrestler, and that's just kind of what you did.

Now these guys are like, and women are like these fucking Swiss Army, like the women in the UFC, like they could beat the fuck out of like any normal guy walking down the street.

I don't give a fuck how many fights you had.

And that's the women.

That's how good they've gotten at fighting.

So you get kids watching this shit.

I mean, the level of how much we fucked each other up just watching,

you know, the WWF was what it was called when I was growing up, the World Wide Wrestling Federation.

And you would try to,

you know, do these suplexes to your friends in the backyard.

You'd take the cushions off the lawn chairs, put them on the fucking porch.

Never had the brains to take the cushions and put them on the grass so it's at least softer.

We would always do it on the porch.

And you'd just let somebody fucking

whatever, try to do the shit that you saw.

You know, there's a lot.

I don't know.

It's.

I definitely believe in whatever way standing up to a bully.

But,

you know, nowadays, I swear to God, it's almost like you have to go to like

some sort of

dojo to begin with.

I don't know.

Listen, it's been a long time since I've been in school, but I definitely believe in like sticking up for yourself.

That reminds me, once for fucking annoying video, I hate when like

they stick

there's these Instagram videos where they show like boxing matches, professional boxing matches, and you see a guy get knocked out.

Then they cut to somebody who's never had a pro fight, and he's making a face like, what was that guy doing?

And he's like, it's not like this, it's like this, it's like this, not like this, it's like this.

And there's nobody throwing punches trying to take his fucking head off.

I don't know.

Anyway, sorry.

Let's move on here.

Brother-in-law is a deadbeat.

Hey, Billy, mayonnaise, tits.

You know, what the fuck?

That's like sweaty and pasty.

That's disgusting.

You know what?

That one hurts.

All right, dear Bill, my sister has been married to this guy, Eric, E-R-I-C-H.

Ugh.

Adding the H.

You know what I mean?

I don't know.

What do you think about that?

Do you get along better with John's J-O-H-N or John's J-O-N?

Or Brian's R-I-A-N or R-Y-A-N?

Here's a new one.

Eric with the C or with an H?

I don't know.

I see Eric with an H and I just think, like, what does this guy think?

He's better than me.

Why did you add the extra, like, Eric, this something?

Like, you know, like you're some lineage going back to some Game of Thrones shit.

All right, dear Billy, my sister has been married to this guy, Eric, with an H for over 10 years.

He wasn't exactly what our family had in mind as the person

my sister would end up marrying, but we supported her anyway.

Now, I know that sounds like a douchey comment where women are like, What are you involved with who she's going to marry?

Like, I'm sure their

criteria was pretty low.

Like, hey, sweetheart, just whatever you do, don't marry a douche.

And then she shows up with Eric with an H.

Anyway, they met in grade school, and when she was pursuing a master's degree in psychology,

oh, sorry, when she was pursuing a master's degree in psychology, and he was enrolled in a PhD program, also for psychology.

He dropped out of the program shortly after beginning.

Sorry.

And then worked, that has nothing to do with the story.

And then worked a series of dead-end jobs for the next five years.

I thought the energy and motivation he had for his PhD program would transfer into something else constructive, but instead he worked as a part-time baker, an event bartender, and got his real estate license, which led nowhere.

Okay, when the pandemic hit, he lost his job as a bartender, but my sister was still able to work remotely.

Since 2020, he's basically been unemployed except for a short month or two where he drove elderly people to pick up their prescriptions.

He sounds depressed to me

if he's not a deadbeat.

Does he smoke weed too?

But he wasn't able to hold that job down mainly because he gets chronic migraine headaches and would call in sick every few days.

On top of that, he's 90% deaf and has anxiety because he has trouble hearing people and interacting with them.

Yeah, this guy's a mess.

So I have sympathy for him when it comes to his health issues.

But the past couple of years, when I've gone on road trips to visit them, the guy who's now 45 years old spends his day smoking pot and watching TV while my sister works.

He's overweight, has been wearing the same clothes for the past 10 years, and is generally uninteresting because he doesn't do much outside of watch TV.

This bugs the hell out of me, but again, this guy was my sister's choice and

she can get sensitive if I bring up uncomfortable things.

Well, if your sister's not upset by it, I would mind my own fucking business.

Last week, my sister's dog got sick and had to be rushed to the emergency vet.

Her dog survived, but she ended up with a hefty bill of six grand.

Both me and my older brother offered to help her out with the bill, but also texted each other about how fucked up it is that we're having to help out my sister because the deadbeat she married to hasn't worked in five years.

So I'm thinking after sending my sister money to use this opportunity to call her husband and tell him that he needs to get his shit together, get a job, and start supporting my sister.

Supporting your sister, he needs to fucking just start by pulling his own weight.

At this point, I really don't care if it upsets my sister because now this guy's deadbeat lifestyle is affecting me.

I want to

get, relax.

You paid for a fucking dog bill, all right?

It's not affecting you.

Like,

well, I guess maybe seeing your sister in that situation is bothering you.

I'm telling you, dude, getting involved in somebody's marital fucking problems when they haven't asked you to is not a good fucking move.

I'm not saying you're wrong for feeling these fucking feelings.

I take back what I just said.

It's just that

I'm telling you, don't do this.

God damn you, Joe, don't do this.

I want to be firm with him, but also not start dropping F-bombs.

Oh, do I relate to that?

Are you doing that thing where you're like trying to rehearse what you want to say to him?

And it starts, you know, like whispering in your house, hey man, you know, I'm not saying you're a bad guy, but, you know, it's just like, you know, it's been five years since you worked.

And, you know,

the fuck, dude, you fucking fat fuck.

Get the fuck off.

You know, and it ends up turning.

Like, I can't do that.

That's what I do.

And I go back like,

like three times, I'll do it.

And I just realize I have an inability.

And then I go, okay, here we go.

It's confrontation time.

I know the F-bombs are coming during a confrontation.

I just, now the game is how far can I go before I start acting like an idiot?

Anyway, he goes, I want to be firm with him, but also not start dropping F-bombs and call him a pussy.

So I plan on writing out some bullet points and sticking to that

when I talk to him.

What do you think, Bill?

Is there anything more I can say or do to this guy?

Would love to get your take on this.

Best wishes to you and the family and go fuck yourself.

If I was you, I would not get involved.

I would not get involved, Okay.

If I was going to get involved, I would keep going through your sister by saying, like,

you know, and I'm just checking in.

Is everything all right?

I know your husband has been struggling trying to find a job.

You know, is everything okay?

And

I would wait.

You just, you can't get involved in somebody's fucking relationship.

You just, what ends up fucking, because it's the back and forth.

Because one moment the person will be like, you know, venting to you.

So then you think, like, oh, that's how they feel.

That's just how they feel in that moment.

And then they swing the other fucking way.

And they're all the way the other way.

And you start going at the person with where they were yesterday, the other person.

It's a fucking nightmare.

I know it's hard to watch a sibling get treated like shit or to be, you know, being taken advantage of or whatever, but like

your sister needs to learn how to handle this fucking problem if she considers it a problem, which I don't know why she wouldn't.

But I can tell you right now, your heart's in the right place and you are 100% right.

But trying, you're not going to go in.

What the fuck are you going to say to this guy?

And he's going to be like, you know, I never looked at it that way.

And then what?

He's going to get a fucking job and start pulling his weight.

Like,

like, that's like Dr.

Phil shit.

You need to get a fucking job.

The guy goes, all right.

And then the crowd applauds.

That's not life.

That's a fucking TV show.

I would not get involved in this shit.

I would not get involved in this shit.

And if he comes around for Thanksgiving and you're drinking, I would, you know, just watch your mouth because something's going to come out.

Hey, buddy, do you think you should be drinking that high level of?

You're drinking pretty high in the shelf for a guy who hasn't worked in five years.

What?

What?

Am I wrong?

Am I?

Oh, now she's crying.

She's crying.

You're mad at me.

You're mad at me.

You're not mad at him.

You're going to get involved in that shit.

I would stay out of it

as hard as it is.

And just be there to pick up the fucking pieces.

Because that doesn't seem like it's going to go anywhere good.

All right.

And with that upbeat fucking thought, that is the podcast.

Thank you, everybody, for listening.

Thank you to everybody once again that came in London, England.

Everybody that came out in Dubai.

I'm in Milan, Italy.

I got that show coming up,

and I feel like I'm going to sleep for fucking eight hours.

That's it.

Sorry about yawning during the podcast.

All right.

That's it.

Go fuck yourselves, and I'll talk to you on Thursday.

This is Bethany Frankel from Just Be with Bethany Frankl.

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