My appearance on today’s Peter & Philip Show was a masterclass in chaos, existential humor, and deeply unserious journalism — a three-way collision between British befuddlement, sarcasm, and whatever dimension I claim to live in (“Atlantean Sidereal Time,” apparently).
The episode opened with my journey “from the wilds of my bedroom to my office,” a heroic trek of nearly five feet, undertaken in the name of art and the Oxford comma. From there, things only got weirder. We explored the metaphysical divide between 7-Up and Sprite (spoiler: it’s as deep as the American soul), debated whether Dana DuBois is a real person or a desperate AI construct built to stave off my loneliness, and briefly touched on spirituality, trauma, and the crushing weight of late-stage capitalism — but, you know, in a fun way.
When asked about the hardest part of running The Daily Whatever, I admitted I enjoy feeding trolls before ceremonially kicking them out, like some digital bouncer in hell. The hosts gamely tried to keep up, drifting between lemon-lime theology, imaginary wars between dimensions, and my claim that one of my top guests was literally Jesus (though the Obama episode allegedly caused “legal complications”).
By the time we reached “Manic Monday” and “Time Zone Confessions,” the conversation had disintegrated into sublime absurdity. Peter may or may not have confessed to communism; Philip may or may not be an NPC; my final word was “Abacus” for reasons known only to me.
In short: it’s satire turned up to 11 — a fever dream wrapped in deadpan sincerity. Somewhere between Monty Python, Black Mirror, and public access TV from another dimension, this episode proves that nothing is sacred… except maybe 7-Up.
Thank you
, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
