The Podcast That Was and Then Wasn't

Okay, so we lied. Sort of.

Technically, we did podcast last night; but then again, technically, water is just hydrogen and air. Make sense? No? Of course not. But that's about the level our brains were functioning on.

I thought podcasting was like riding a bike, but being out of practice for a week and a half clearly proved us wrong. In all fairness, though, it was doomed from the beginning.

We were tired and ran into some microphone difficulties before we even started. By the time we were ready, I just couldn't get it up and was totally bitchy. Nick wasn't feeling it either. We were doing our best to make sarcastic remarks about Martha Stewart, but what we were really saying to each other was "...um, I have a... headache?"

Suffice to say there were a few instances where we questioned if we should just stop, but we dragged it out and tread verbal water for another forty-five minutes before finally putting ourselves out of our misery, only to realize that the laptop died about 16 minutes into the podcast.

It was the podcast equivalent of an out-of-focus homemade sex tape, which I'm sure some sleazy guy will find a copy somewhere and try to make millions off it to humiliate us once we hit our target goal of underground-celebrity-cult-status.

After a few oh-fucks, we took it as a sign from the gods of good conversation that this dreadful monstrosity/lame excuse for a podcast should never be heard or spoken of again.

So we're going to seek some therapy and try it again over the weekend. In the meantime, we'll post more during the week, because posting is Viagra for our collective sense of sarcastic self-worth.

Maybe a drink or ten won’t hurt either.