Bugle 271 – Abdicupdate

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Hello buglers and welcome to issue 271 of The Bugle with me Andy Zoltzmann, the British Institute of Satirists and Lampooners registered comedian in the city of London 2012 and joining me from New York City it's the novelty exploding bow tie in the overpriced tailor shop of news the undercooked duck in the peaking pancake of politics he urinates into the test tube of current affairs and tests positive for satire it's john oliver

hello andy hello buglers uh i hope you all had uh a truly pleasant week i've had a slightly weird few days to be honest after finding myself at the center of a minor technological tornado uh we did a piece on Sunday's show about net neutrality, an issue that is quite simply the single most important issue that is too boring to give a shit about.

We ended the segment reminding everyone the FCC was now accepting comments and pointing out an email address at which those comments would presumably be welcomed.

At which point, all hell appeared to break loose.

The comments page of the FCC soon went down, and they sent out a tweet saying, we've been experiencing technical difficulties with our comment system due to heavy traffic we're working to resolve these issues quickly and they seemed to experience technical troubles for the next couple of days which became a bit of a story in and of itself giving more attention to the issue driving more people to the comments pages making them crash again now my role in this is not entirely clear andy but it definitely led to one of the strangest encounters of my life yesterday morning I was walking to the CBS studios to do an interview on CBS this morning just to generally promote the show and as I walked up the road, I saw a TMZ reporter with a camera in his hand and I thought, oh, that's exciting.

Someone like LL Cooljay must be on the show.

I wonder if I'll get to meet him.

Then the TMZ reporter started walking towards me and I thought, oh, he must want to know what door LL

Cool J is likely to come out of.

And then he lifted up his camera and pointed it at me and I thought, oh shit.

Because I've never been interviewed by TMZ before, Andy.

That was a streak I was very happy with.

I should frankly not be pinging anywhere near their radar, but I'm afraid that streak has now emphatically come to an end.

The guy said to me, you crashed the FCC website.

Can you tell us quickly what net neutrality is all about?

To which I basically said, no, I can't tell you that quickly.

It's a lot more complicated than we have time for here at the side of the road.

To which he said, well, can you tell me what the biggest problem facing America right now is?

To which I replied, to be honest, you're pretty much embodying it at the moment.

Now,

I'm not proud of that, Andy.

He was just doing his job, although lots of people have used that as a defense in the past for doing some pretty appalling things.

So I'm not sure that's quite excuse enough.

And I certainly think that it was an unusable enough answer that it is unlikely ever to appear on TMZ, meaning that technically my streak continues, Andy.

Weren't they the people that broke the news of Michael Jackson dying, TMZ?

Maybe.

They break that kind of news.

I don't know if they

broke that particular one.

But yeah, they break lots of news.

Basically, people dying, celebrities, nipples appearing.

Right.

Families.

Did you manage to keep your top on while they were talking to you?

Well, no.

It's amazing how instinctively you just end up having a nip slip under you.

Well, Sandra, you've had a very exciting week.

I also had

a very, very busy week.

The most extraordinary thing happened to me, John.

I made myself a cup of miso soup in the kitchen.

Nice.

Yeah, just some miso paste and poured some boiling water in it.

And I walked across the garden to my shed.

And this bee flew at me.

And I just flapped it away with my hands.

And then I walked to the shed, sat down to take a sip of my miso soup.

There's a dead fing bee in it.

I'd inadvertently slayed a bee with soup.

Wow.

You missed and miyargied yourself.

A bee soup.

It's been a big week.

This is Bugle 271 for the week ending Friday, the 6th of June, 2014.

70 years since D-Day, one of the most pivotal events in human history, a day of planet shaping heroism, sacrifice, and bravery, or as it will always be known in my family, day one of Great Uncle Norbert's extremely badly scheduled school French exchange trip.

No sandcastles, boys, no sandcastles.

And Bugle 271, of course, I used to have a friend called 271, who's a Spanish guy, used to go into raptures whenever the former New Zealand cricketer Roger Toos was playing on the telly.

So we called him Tooze Heaven Juan.

Is this still on?

As always, a section of the bugle is going in the bin.

This week, a driverless cars section.

After Google announced the development of the self-driving car, we ask the important questions about this exciting technology.

One, what the f could possibly go wrong with that?

Two, will this technological rollout be followed by the automatic unmanned ambulance and the spring-loaded lamppost and the two-in-one embarmatronic mechanical

pathology undertaker?

And more importantly, will it take off in London?

I cannot see London's drivers being interested, John, unless this car, this driverless car comes with a button that you can press to make the vehicle automatically drive like an absolute.

Otherwise, London's drivers will not be interested.

That section in the bin.

Top story this week.

On your knees, peasants.

It's the Royal Roundup.

and just to be clear this isn't a royal roundup in the French sense this isn't a guillotine based check-in with royal family members across Europe having said that it does feature some crowns being dropped we start in Spain with King Juan Carlos or KJC as he tags all his graffiti

it's mainly graffiti images of him in a crown to be honest sitting in various thrones and lifting weights which he'd occasionally paint on the side of trains in Spain in the middle of the night that's not the point well King Carlos took the country and indeed the continent by surprise this week when he abdicated.

It wasn't so much the timing that was the surprise, it was the fact that he abdicated at all.

He has famously said, kings don't abdicate, they die in their sleep.

In fact, he was also reported to have once joked with Queen Elizabeth, the real and only queen, saying, Both of us will die with our crowns on.

To which the queen is presumably now going, ah,

I've still got my crown on.

Ah,

you're not dead and yours is off.

Ah, I'm still the queen.

queen ah

yeah Spain was had a bit of a bad run recently after making its Faustian pact with the devil to stop choking at major football tournaments in exchange for going economically more belly up than a pregnant hippopotamus trying to explain to another hippopotamus what luge is and now it's king

now it's king king juan carlos the primer has hung up his crown he's quite the monarchy and uh he's in his mid 70s now and he's had a few uh mud uh media bloopers, but it's quite interesting a story for him.

He was essentially appointed to the throne by General Franco, the notorious despot, fascist, civil war monger, mass murderer, human rights abuser, oppressor of minorities.

Man, this guy had a lot of hobbies.

Platinum-level sex isn't all-round certifiable.

That's not the traditional way to come to the throne, is it, Andy?

The traditional way is, of course, being born after gestating for nine months in a dragon's stomach before being shot out of his mouth onto a golden cushion.

So that's a new way to become king.

Well that's you know 20th century using what you use more modern technology than the dragon's womb.

But he Juan Carlos plotted behind Franco's back to bring freedom and democracy to Spain and after the big F had finally popped his long overdue clogs in 1975 he prompted massive political and social changes in the country and on the way took some time out from kinging stuff to scupper a military coup in 1981 that not only could have thrown Spain back to the Franco era, but more importantly cast serious doubts on the nation's ability to host the 1982 Football World Cup.

So he really saved his nation in a

number of ways.

That's the interesting thing.

He voluntarily gave up basically dictatorial powers that he inherited from Franco and successfully steered Spain into the democratic country that it is today, full of incredible midfielders with an uncanny ability to keep the ball.

That's all thanks to him.

But being on the throne also came with certain perks for KJC.

Not only did he get his pointy headgear, that was a given, that was his to keep, he also had a pact with the press that they not publish information about any lovers or any scandalous dealings in business that he or anyone around him might become involved in.

And you do not make a pact like that, Andy, without the intention of making full use of it.

That is not a hypothetical tool.

That is a sledgehammer you wish to whack around.

Because King Juan Carlos had something of a wandering scepter over the years, despite his publicly squeaky clean image.

He has had, let's say, some well-traveled family duels.

The press eventually decided that this pact was built on bullshit, which led to the story a few years ago, which we actually covered on the bugle, of King Juan Carlos being caught in the height of the worst economic crisis in Spanish memory, secretly traveling to Africa to hunt elephants with a woman who was not his wife.

It was an amazing story that was extremely funny to almost everyone except the wife and the elephant in question.

Both of whom felt absolutely terrible for being involved in completely different ways.

Yeah, so this was just one of the controversies that has recently stacked up like a big plate of really tasty ham.

Oh, oh man.

Oh, if I was a pig's leg, I'll be honoured to be made into that.

And as you say, so in Bugle issue 191 it was, so whilst his country was wallowing in the economic slurry shat out all over it by the merciless anus of the global financial crisis, He monarched off to Botswana to shoot elephants.

Now, wrestling elephants might have been okay.

That at least would have been a kind of honourable contest a dignified monarch might indulge in.

Elephant jousting, no one would have a beef with that.

That should be an Olympic sport in my book.

Admittedly, my book is full of bullshit, incoherent, poorly sub-edited, and thinks most things should be Olympic sports, apart from some sports that are Olympic sports.

And he also shoots bears, to be fair to Juan Carlos, so this is not just an anti-elephant thing, and it's a kill-or-be-killed world out there.

The problem was that from this point on, his image was so stained that there was real concern that he might permanently damage the future of the Spanish monarchy if his royal arse remained unabdicated.

Hence, this week's announcement that he was going abdi-bye-bye.

Although, it's worth mentioning that this by no means solves the Spanish royal family's problems.

In fact, it might actually give them a few more issues to get their golden heads around because he, like the Pope, was really supposed to leave his job by dying.

There's no clear plan for where King Juan Carlos or ex-King Juan Carlos and current Juan Carlos is going to live now or who will pay for his living expenses, which makes sense because again, he's really supposed to be living in the ground today

and in fact not really living at all.

Also, while he was king, he had full immunity from prosecution, a right that he used to reach a very disappointing zero bank robbery.

That makes no sense.

But that fact might become important as he currently faces faces two separate paternity suits which he may now have to face.

And that was the key problem, Andy.

He lived his life like his penis was immune from prosecution.

But now the chickens have come home to roost on that penis, Andy, and it may well be taken off in penis cuffs and be forced to appear with his balls in a High Court of Spain.

I think that was your first draft of the Elton John song, wasn't it?

You lived your life like your penis had immunity from prosecution.

The interesting thing here is that this is just part of a pattern of European abdication.

In the past 18 months alone, two kings and one queen have given up their jobs for life, the jobs for which an exit interview was really supposed to be getting lowered into the ground.

Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands was the first royal to resign, passing on the Dutch crown, which is of course an entire Ezam cheese with a hole cut in the middle,

passing it on to her son, Willem Alexander.

The reason she gave was that at age 75, it was time to give the crown to someone younger.

Just a few months after that, Belgium's Albert II, the king of Belgium, the head waffle-in-chief, as he's also known.

He gave up the Belgian crown, which is, of course, a hat-shaped waffle with whipped cream squirted on the top.

He did this after a string of scandals and controversies, and his son, Philippe, took over.

He was 78 when he left the Belgian throne, which is, of course, a chair made of waffles with strawberries for jewels.

All of which makes you you look at england's current queen andy who is nearly 90 years old and who is currently refusing to either abdicate or die and in doing so is flipping a royal bird at her son her subjects god and all the weak kings and queens who couldn't hack it and gave up

yes in fact the guardian newspaper uh here in britain said the abdication of juan carlos should send shivers through the house of windsor uh I'm not sure it will send shivers, John.

I don't think the Queen has any intention of breaking with the tradition of leaving her job in a box uh queen elizabeth ii the acceptable face of medieval feudalism who regained spectacularly her falling popularity by doing and saying absolutely nothing and doing and saying absolutely nothing quite brilliantly she is very much the jimi hendrix of constitutional neutrality and i i i cannot see i can i i do think she needs to modernize though because i don't think she represents the nation that is modern britain john she's been on the throne for 62 years she's been a heterosexual christian for that entire time.

Britain as a nation has changed.

I believe she has a duty to the nation that is modern Britain to become a lesbian Muslim for the rest of her life.

And I think that would do a lot to help Britain move forward into the 21st century as a modern nation embracing minorities.

And I think that could be her greatest legacy.

The Queen was even in action this week delivering the historics Queen speech at the state opening of Parliament, the event of pomp and pageantry that is as historic as it is faintly embarrassing.

She travelled to the event in her new Diamond Jubilee carriage, which is quite similar to her old carriage, but which is pulled by horses with speakers in their arses and lights on their hooves.

The speech, as always, was written for her by ministers, meaning that she's used basically as a parliamentary puppet to make this speech, something of a queen karaoke machine.

It's a time when government speech writers have the option of getting together and wondering, what do you think we can get her to say this year?

And that kind of power means that this is an unforgivably wasted opportunity year after year after year.

It means that her speech this year involved lines such as, my government legislative program will continue to deliver on its long-term plan to build a stronger economy and a fairer society.

When they could, Andy, they could have made her say, My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard.

And they're like, it's better than yours.

Damn right, it's better better than yours I could teach you but I'd have to charge la la la la la

warm it up la la la la la

the boys are waiting

instead and

instead

we got a pro former speech announcing 11 new bills with pension reforms new rights for fracking firms and limited power to recall any misbehaving mps it was fing boring

John,

was that some of your own poetry?

No, Andy, that was Khaleese.

That was a Khaleese, my milkshake, the famous Khaleese song, My Milkshake Brings All the Boys to the Yard.

Oh, right, okay.

I'm a bit behind on Khaleese.

The anti-lactose intolerance propaganda.

So as you say, she is constitutionally basically a Ron Burgundy.

And

to the government's opponents, what she was basically saying was not go f ⁇ yourself San Diego, but go f ⁇ yourself anywhere that isn't London.

The only moment of drama came when one of the Queen's page boys, dressed in an outfit which will haunt him for the rest of his life, fainted.

He had been carrying her train as she walked into the chamber and he was standing by her and he collapsed with a loud thud after she spoke of the need

to work towards a and I quote comprehensive nuclear agreement with Iran.

Literally on the word Iran, he passed out.

And Prince Charles and Camilla apparently, again I quote showed concern as help was called to assist him and he was carried out of the chamber I will say though Andy they didn't show concern by getting up and do anything to help a collapsed child but as for the queen she was lauded for not being distracted and continuing to read the speech without appearing to break her delivery there's that classic maternal quality that she's famous for Andy I'll tell you why she didn't break her delivery she couldn't give a shit Andy that's why oh, is that page boy broken?

Just throw him on the pile with the others and get me a new one.

So, all this talk of a fairer society, this has been quite a big story in Britain over recent recent months, as every set of economic figures is scrabbled over like a toy zebra in a line enclosure, and the age-old philosophical questions are debated, such as, is there an economic recovery still an economic recovery if the only people who notice it were rich enough not to have actually noticed the original downturn in the first place?

And there's a sense that Walton might have trickle-down economics, where eventually those at the bottom benefit from the seepage of money from the top down the trouser leg of

practicality, we also seem to be having in this country trickle-up austerity, wherein those at the bottom have their livelihoods slashed in the hope that eventually those at the top will be shamed into acting with a semblance of financial restraint.

But there aren't any discernible signs that it works yet.

But the Queen rode that out, John.

She will not be affected by any pity, any discernible pity or emotion in any way.

And part of this, as you say, is because she arrived in spectacular style in that phenomenal new set of spanking wheels.

It was amazing.

I mean, the new Queenmobile pimped up and blinged out with some quality artefacts.

Bits from historic ships, including Nelson's HMS victory, in which he won the Battle of Trafalgar before retiring at the very top of the naval warfare game due to a career-ending death.

Musket balls from the battlefield of Waterloo, wood from the door of Downing Street, slivers from the the Stone of Scone, which is used only for coronations, bits of old aeroplanes, and cathedrals.

And I don't know how often I've been in my car, John, thinking, oh, if only I had some cathedral in here, I could drive as fast as I like, knowing that God is going to keep me safe.

It's also historic objects from British history, such as Mrs.

Newton's recipe for wig and apple pie that she riffed up in the kitchen after her boy Isaac came home in a real bait from an afternoon in the park sitting under trees.

And the interior door handle of this carriage was made from the resin-encrusted penis of the notorious 17th century Lothario King Charles II.

It's quite, quite spectacular.

And each door handle, made by a specialist jeweller in New Zealand, was individually decorated with 24 diamonds and 130 sapphires, just in case.

Because when you are queen and you're opening your car door, you wouldn't be able to think this door handle could pay for an entire fing school.

Come on, Britain, know your place.

Also features a number of mod-cons, six hydraulic stabilizers covered in gold leaf uh fitted to the carriage to ensure a smooth ride uh it's best best to have your hydraulic stabilizers covered in gold because uh if you're a queen How would you even know you're being hydraulically stabilized?

It's like the old princess in a pea story.

A true royal finds any vehicle really, really bumpy if it has non-gold encrusted hydraulic stabilizers.

That's how they traditionally tell royals apart from the impostors.

The only problem was, as you suggested earlier, they spent so much money on getting out the new cart with all this rather tackly, ostentatious stuff, a touch of the hip-hop about it, to be honest, ramming it full of the shavings of history that they ran out of money and couldn't put a fing engine in it, so they had to strap a load of horses on the front so it would move.

It's a W.J.

Frecklington.

Yep.

Yes, Frecklington, are you a massive Frecklington fan, Chris?

Frecklington is my favourite carriage maker.

It's just a shame he's Australian.

He was a cracking carriage maker, Frecklington.

This is what makes it odd, because you might think, why is the Queen wasting all this public money in a time of austerity on a completely unnecessary new set of wheels?

But it was, in fact, a gift from a man who grew up in the Australian Outback who makes carriages.

And he's remortgaged his own house to pay for this £2.7 million

cart.

And I'm not going to tell this guy how to live his life or spend his wedge, but I cannot.

I can't imagine sitting at home thinking,

why won't somebody please make a completely unnecessary £2.7 million carriage for the Queen?

Somebody has to do it.

Your emails now.

We have an email here from Andrew in Johannesburg.

And he says, Dear Chris, John, and Andy, in predicted order, finishing an 89-kilometer foot race.

Boy, he's putting you.

I guess that's just stamina.

That's stamina, Chris, not speed.

Because I'll beat you over 10 meters.

Yes,

89 kilometers, you might have the edge.

This past Sunday, the Comrades Marathon took place in South Africa.

It's an 89-kilometer running race between the cities of oh boy,

you know, Dutch-sounding place and Durban.

During the race for anyone curious about it,

during the race, I was closely tracking the women's fields as I had a friend who was aiming to finish in the top 20.

At the 58-kilometer mark, a name appeared in the top 50 women which caught my eye.

Eve Bugler of Great Britain.

Could she possibly be the first first woman to subscribe to the bugle?

Did she have a partner called Adam who placed the first order for a bugle t-shirt?

Eve clearly had a good pacing strategy coming 49th at 58km to finish as the 34th woman in

755-46.

Yours in running trivia, Andrew.

Yeah, so there you go.

But I will say that if she didn't win, we are renouncing Eve.

Like God, we're renouncing her.

So only interested in winners here at the Bugle.

Yeah, only winners.

That's That's why I've never entered the London Marathon.

Because, you know, I always hear sportsmen saying, well, we wouldn't be here if we didn't think we could win it, even though they clearly can't win it.

I take that attitude into marathon running.

So if I don't think I can actually win it, what's the point?

You do all these triathlons, Chris.

How many did you actually win?

I've never won a single race.

Never won a race?

No.

Loser.

I have never lost a triathlon.

I have set personal bests in race where I've come a few thousand paces down.

I've never ever lost a single triathlon.

That makes me a better triathlete than than you, Chris.

Statistically, my career stats are better than yours.

Anytime you want to take me on.

That's not what I was saying.

Two key rebails coming in to info at thebuglepodcast.com.

And if you're listening, Eve Bugler, I do sincerely hope you changed your name to that in honour of this podcast.

And stop running so stupidly far.

World Cup and World, John.

I will be

reporting live from the World Cup exclusively for the Bugle from Sao Paulo, well from London, just 5,700 miles from Sao Paulo in Brazil, where in just one week's time, the waiting will be over and the football can begin.

As can the diving, time-wasting, tactical negativity, shouting of referees, bleating about referees, and TV over-analysis of referees.

It's the World Cup, John!

The World Cup.

Life does not get any better than the one week before a World Cup for me.

The anticipation before the slightly disappointing reality of 0-0 draws kicks in.

Smell of a wall chart, Andy.

Just unfold it, blue-tack the corners.

It's a dance as old as time in there.

Yep, dance as old as, well, I don't know.

Dance probably only goes back to 1930 in the first World Cup.

I don't know if he even had war charts.

That's where time begins for me, Andy.

Yeah, that's certainly where time begins for Uruguay, I think.

They

won the 10-man Uruguay.

I did a kind of World Cup preview for the Independent.

I'll post the link on the Hello Buglers Twitter feed.

But it's just one week next Thursday.

One week from today, as we record, Brazil v Croatia and the excitement is building like a Lego-obsessed child.

So many questions to answer.

Can Brazil triumph on home soil?

I really hope they do, John, because I was in India when India won the Cricket World Cup on home soil, and the nationwide frenzy of excitement almost woke Gandhi up.

Although my abiding memory of that joyous occasion was on the streets afterwards, in which I was the victim of some quite horrific racial abuse when this car of young Indian lads pulled up alongside me just in the streets, wound down the window and shouted, Go home, white man.

And I thought, man,

that is so 1940s.

But then I remembered I was actually due to go home the following day, so they could just have been from the airline.

But if Brazil does win the World Cup on home soil, the bouncing up and down could cause South America to flip North America into the air like a pancake.

The continent shearing off at the Panama Canal, definite weak spot, landing at a bit of a skewy angle

out in the Pacific.

And I just hope they play well, John.

I think Brazil generally make or break a World Cup.

I hope they play with some flair.

Some of the old-time Brazilian sides played football so beautiful it made you want to dig up long-dead relatives, blast some very strong coffee into their

faces and shout, what are you doing being dead, you idiot?

Wake up and watch this.

Great to see you, by the way.

You look fing terrible.

Really fing terrible.

And are you still wearing that tatty old robe from the funeral parlour?

It is filthy.

And then, of course, next Saturday, I think it's England, Italy, Italy, isn't it?

Classic confrontation.

Dante versus Shakespeare.

Da Vinci versus former kids TV artist Tony Hart.

Pavarotti versus Kajagugu.

And Bruno Lessi's Duomo in Florence against the smashed up bus shelter on the A243.

It is one of the all-time great cultural classics.

The build-up has been slightly overshadowed by the controversy over the

revelation that the Catabid might have been rigged,

as revelations go, awarding a World Cup to a country in a desert the size of East Anglia with a population the size of East Anglia and slightly less interest in football than, for example, East Anglia.

That was about as surprising a revelation as discovering that Captain Scott at some point said words to the effect, yes, chaps, it is a little bit on the parky side.

But to take you into the World Cup, we have been delving around in the BBC archives to the last time the World Cup was held in Brazil.

That was back in 1950, and there was a famous clash, John, between my country, England, and your country, the USA, in that World Cup.

I don't know if there's been much talk of that in the American media recently in the city of Belo Horizonte.

And I've managed to get hold of the original BBC commentary from what was one of the greatest upsets in the history of world football that rather punctured the assumed superiority of English football.

And these funny little American chaps, it really is terribly good of them to turn up for the game, up against the founding fathers of football, of course, England.

Look at their little faces, the Americans, so excited to be allowed out to play.

And one can only applaud the spirit of sportsmanship, which has driven them like lambs to the footballing slaughter, to come take the rightful God-given punishment to be duly metered out by the greatest footballers in the world-Tom Finney, Stan Mortensen, Billy Wright.

And we don't want to waggle it in people's faces.

So, the great Stanley Matthews, not even playing today, might keep the score in single figures.

If we're being polite, and the referee looks like he's about to start the game, has a word with the American players, presumably apologising for what's about to happen to them, puts the whistle to his lips, said this could be tremendous fun.

There will be a lot of goals here, they will start flooding in from those ever-so-English boots.

This will be tremendously funny to watch.

38 minutes later.

Rather polite display by England so far.

Most considerately allowing their American friends to enjoy the first half before

putting them thoroughly in their place after half-time.

Oh f

King Hell America scored a fking goal.

What the f was that?

Who's got do that players have names?

I didn't even consider it.

Well some little chaps running off looking rather happy.

Oh well, I guess it's got to be 10-1 instead of 10-0.

No biggie, no no biggie.

Well, I'm in America.

In the 90th minute, King Hel England!

King, do something!

Learn to pass the ball, you useless pieces of shit!

Kick the

kick the bollocks!

Sack the manager!

Ref, it's your fault!

Your fing fault, Ref.

Well, that's it, I'm gonna smash up a restaurant and urinate in a fountain back to London.

Humiliating, one of the most humiliating days in English football history.

So that's it for this week's Bugle More on the World Cup.

Over the next few weeks.

We are exclusively covering.

We are, I believe, the only media outlets allowed to report the results of the World Cup over the next month.

So do stay tuned, Buglers.

In the meantime, keep your emails coming into info at thebuglepodcast.com.

Check out our SoundCloud page, soundcloud.com/slash the hyphen bugle.

And don't forget, you can buy your bugle merch and take out your voluntary subscriptions to keep this podcast not free for you, but free for other people at thebuglepodcast.com.

Until next time, Buglers, goodbye.

Bye!

Did you drink the miso soup?

No, I didn't drink the miso soup.

I don't...

Should I have drunk the miso soup?

Hi Buglers, it's producer Chris here.

I just wanted to very quickly tell you about my new podcast, Mildly Informed, which is in podcast feeds and YouTube right now.

Quite simply, it's a show where me and my friend Richie review literally anything.

So please come join us wherever you get your podcasts right now.