B (16:57)
Okay, I've been on a break. Let's get back into it. I've been on a break for the last week, by the way. I am staring at myself in the viewfinder. I am completely addicted to myself in this wig. I just. It's a bang. It's about the bang. So next time, if you see me and this isn't a wig, like, I go to rip it off and it won't come off, you know what happened? And can we get it back to you and from the other side? Thank you. Okay, I've been on a break this past week. I am addicted to my cell phone. And I don't mean that in like a funny, relatable haha right type of way. I mean, it's a clinical, medical addiction to my cell phone. Because I live and work on my phone. I don't separate them. I don't have a work phone and then a personal phone. Everything is on one phone. I have slowly, over the last kind of three months, been feeling myself get into this hole, this like, isolating hole where I'm not responding to texts. I'm doing the absolute bare minimum required of me. I find no joy in my job, which is. I know that's when I'm approaching burnout. Because it's like, this is. There is nothing else on planet earth I would rather be doing than this fucking job. And so when I to feel like, oh, I don't want to do that, or oh, I don't want to record the podcast, it's like, all right, maybe take a step back and like, don't be on your phone. So that's what I tried to do for a week. Did it work? No, I was on my phone ultimately all week and made me feel like shit. But I will say like, yes, I kept scrolling. Yes, I kept. Because I obviously have to watch asmr When I go to bed. What are you, an idiot? I have to watch ASMR to scroll Like, I have to watch that. So how am I supposed to go to bed without that? You know? You see my dilemma? So I started. Here's. Here's my. What I did this past week, okay? I have adopted a new craft, a new hobby. I taught myself how to embroider. I'm gonna put. Put up some pictures right here of my embroidery. Guys, I actually went the fuck off. I taught myself Lazy Daisy stitch. I taught myself the French knot. I taught myself. I tried to do satin stitch was not working for me. Okay? I also didn't realize that you thread an embroidery needle different than a sewing needle. Sewing needle. You put it all the way through and you double the string and then you tie it at the end so like you can whip that bitch around. The needle's not coming off embroidery thread. You only put one loop of the thread through it. And then you kind of like leave the tail on. So it's just one long string. And then you tie that at the end. That tripped me up. Okay? I was not doing that right. And then I slowly found the whole world of embroidery. TikTok and embroidery YouTube. God bless the middle aged British women who holding that shit down on YouTube shout out because that shit. And they're so delicate with it. They're like, what you're going to want to do is very ever so delicately, just French knot under, under. And Paul, amazing. Beautiful. Wow. I mean, they're just so, like, encouraging and they make it sound so simple because I guess in theory it is, but when you're really in it, it's like, girl, this is so hard and complicated. And I definitely frustration cried. But then I made this and I'm very proud of this. So I did that. I also did. I rearranged my living room. That was fun. I sometimes get in this mood. I don't know what it is. Maybe it's something in my chart. Maybe it's the idiot in my chart where if something's wrong in my life, I'm like, well, obviously it's because I have to rearrange my room. Like, I have to rearrange my furniture. I have to change the wall hangings. I have to put more holes in the wall. Like, I don't know. So I redecorated my office wall and then I redecor. I rearrange the furniture in my living room and I feel better. It's amazing, like, just switching up your space. I also saw this TikTok that was like, hey, why the fuck would you say that to me? That's really rude. Maybe the reason that you're, like, not feeling your best or maybe you're, like, in a depression hole is because of blackout curtains. Bitch, I've been sleeping with blackout curtains since I was in college. Like, yeah, and maybe you're right. If I leave the curtains open and I see the sunlight and the sunlight naturally wakes me up, maybe I would feel better. But at the same time, fuck you, fuck you, and fuck your entire bloodline, because that's really rude to call out. Like, why would you ever say that to me? And then I did it this morning. I, like, left one curtain open last night, and then I was like, oh, that's what the sun looks like. Like, shut up. I don't want to hear it. And, yeah, I'm tucking my boob under my sweatshirt because I'm sweating. Whatever. Y' all act like it's your first day on Earth. It's your first day. Listen to this podcast. Hey, welcome back. It's me, the Broski Report. Where are you now that I need you? She gave me money when I need. Oh, you know what else I would do during my super bowl performance? I would do. Ozara Larson would come out and we would do a. We would do a duet of Never Ending Midnight Sun. She's doing it perfect the way she does it. And then I'm on the other side of the stage. And you know how Chloe and Halle do that thing where when they sing, they, like, hold each other's hand? It's this famous clip. Maybe put it up here where they are singing and they're holding each other. They're on a spinning. Can I think straight? One sentence? Take a breath. Slow down. Like, no one's rushing you. Like, take a breath and say it. There is a famous performance by Chloe and Halle where they're on a small rotating platform and. And they're facing opposite each other. Their backs are to each other, and they're holding one hand behind them. And then they slowly, like, let themselves lean forward, and the thing's spinning and they're singing at the same time. So they're like this. And they're going in a circle. That's what me and Zara Larson would be doing. But while she's doing, I'm doing it in the pockets in between those notes. So it's, like, really dissonant, and it's really horrible. But that's the feeling I want to produce in my audience. I want them to feel uncomfortable I want them. And speaking of uncomfortable, I'll get to that in a second. Second. And thank you for reminding me. I'll talk about that in a fucking second. In the. In between when she's. I'm doing. And then it sounds like an alarm. It's. It sounds like a fire alarm. Okay. And with the power of our voices, we would cause a panic and everyone sitting in the super bowl audience to think that there was a real fire alarm. So it's kind of like a modern reimagining, a modern take on a siren call. It would be like a fire siren. Okay, like you've heard of a water nymph. Now what about a fire siren? That is me and Zara Larson, and we would be wearing matching sequin Mugler leotards. So this would happen before I do my Shrek 2 number. Okay. Anyway, this show was sponsored by Liquid IV. I recently was filming Royal Court and I recorded three episodes back to back to back in a single day. And girl, I slept for 40 hours afterward damn near all day. Events like long work days aren't just about those opening moments. They require superior hydration from start to finish. I've disrespected my studio bathroom with yellow pee more than once. I'm lying. Brown pee. There's actually seven possible signs of mild fatigue. Brain fog, nausea, headaches, irritability, yellow pee, feeling thirsty. And guess what? Check, check, check times 7. I reach for liquid IV before I see the signs of dehydration. Liquid IV is the only sugar free hydration product on the market, clinically demonstrated to hydrate faster than water alone. I personally keep a packet with me in my purse in my office, my airplane, carry on especially, you name it. It really helps me recharge my social battery by keeping me hydrated. Just one stick and 16 ounces of water hydrates better than water alone. Powered by Liquid IV Hydra Science. An optimized ratio of electrolytes, essential vitamins and clinically tested nutrients that turn ordinary water into extraordinary hydration. Brain fog at 2pm Might be time to hydrate yellow pee. That's your body throwing a penalty flag. Feeling like you're running on overtime? You might be missing Liquid iv. Show up start to finish with hydration from Liquid iv Hydration multiplier. Sugar free tear pour live more. Go to liquidiv.com and get 20% off your first order with code BOROWSKI at checkout. That's 20% off your first order with Code Broski@liquidiv.com Speaking of uncomfortable, I just finished Turn of The screw. Now we're doing book club. Hey guys, welcome to book club. I finished Turn of the Screw by Henry James, bitch. I need to talk shit about this dumbass, fucking stupid ass book. Okay? I need to talk shit about this book. This was recommended to me as a Victorian ghost story. Yay. Of course I picked that shit up. I start reading this book and to go back to George Orwell, which of course I love to talk about George Orwell, but I know that a lot of, a lot of bitches fucking hate George Orwell. And I didn't realize that he was that despised in the literary community. Yes, his works are super impactful. Yes, I personally love his writing style. It's very simplistic, it's very to the point, easy to follow. But of course there's hidden meaning in it. And do you remember when I read that book and I came on here and talked about it, it's called why I Write by George Orwell. And he detailed four main reasons why any author would write. Mainly political reasons, maybe to entertain. Third, a navel gazing, you know, selfish thing. Fourth one, I don't remember. But the main one is at least what guided him in his life was everything I write has a political undertone because everything in life is political. Okay, that's one way to look at life. Absolutely. And everything is political. But sometimes I think you can write a book or a movie or, you know, music to just entertain and that's okay. He had very kind of harsh opinions on that. Yes. But the underbelly of that, which is writing style. And he really had an issue with authors, specifically British authors, who are so just superfluous in their writing. I mean, commas, dashes, semicolons, just so many qualifying statements that end up saying a whole bunch of fucking hoopla, a bunch of fucking nothing. And it's just words on a page. And I know that maybe that's reductive of me to say that, like, but I do think that as a participant in this book, because no piece of art or work of literature is complete until, you know, an audience member reads it, a reader reads it, or an audience member watches a movie or listens to an album or fucking what have you, this book was written in that style that George Orwell literally called out in that book. And I remember reading that when I was reading why I Write. And I was like, I think I'm familiar with the kind of writing that he's talking about. But in my head I was like, is it the kind of writing like 20,000 Leagues under the Sea, where it's 75 pages discussing, like, the coral that bro saw. That is intentional and has significance within the larger scheme of the book. Like, that's, you know, Yay. This fucking book, bitch. Oh, my God. The story alone, I will say I have so many things to say about this book. Let me give kind of a detailed explanation because you don't have to read this book if you want to. Yay. Skip ahead, but I'm telling you, you don't have to. This was recommended to me as a Victorian, a gothic ghost tale, which, yay. I'm all ears in theory, right? I start reading it, and the beginning is intriguing. It's a bunch of friends at a Christmas party. They're in some country home, bunch of rich elites in the countryside of England, and they're gathered around the fire and they're telling ghost stories. Okay? This one guy goes, I have a story. You know, everyone's like, oh. And then whatever. How dreadful. How haunting. What about you, Douglas? And he goes, I have a story, but it's too dreadful to even. I can't even say it like that. Kind of like the. The kid who you want, they want you to ask what's wrong? So bad. It was giving that energy, like, You know, like, they want you to be like, what's wrong? This was this guy, but he was like, it's too. It's too much, too dreadful. And of course, that piques everyone interest. Piques everyone's interest. And they're like, tell us, Douglas, please tell us. He goes, I couldn't even if I wanted to. It was. It's written down in a manuscript locked away in a drawer in my office in London. And everyone's like, well, what the fuck? Send for the key. Like, send a courier to go get it. And he's like, all right, you're right, you're right. So he sends for it. This is the first like six pages of the book. And then it finally comes back and all these stupid ass details. Like a woman who was really curious to know about it, had to leave early, never mentions that woman again. By the way, you never come back to this story being told by Douglas ever again. And another thing, at the very beginning of the book, they mentioned that Douglas, this who isn't even the narrator, the narrator is a different guy. Douglas, the guy who is in possession of this ghost story, the ghost story belongs to a woman who was a governess that he used to know that was 10 years his senior, who he had a crush on. Why does that matter? You may Ask. Hey, it doesn't. Because they never revisit it ever again. And by the way, there's no need. I guess I appreciate what they were trying to do by setting this up as, like, a story that a friend of a friend told me that, you know, it must be true because there's some sense of closeness or some sense of tangibility. But even though this is a fiction, whatever, it got to a point where I was like, none of these details fucking matter. Because ultimately in storytelling, if you're gonna mention something, what's that rule called? Stanley would know what I'm talking about. Maybe I ask him. No, it's okay. If you mention something, it's because you're going to come back to it, right? That's the only. You only mention it because it's significant to the larger story. I swear to God, 75% of the details in this book are so pointless, they're never revisited again. And sometimes he would go on for pages about. I mean, I couldn't even tell you what. And I enjoy that type of prose. Like, that type of writing, which is really long run on sentences and qualifying statements. Yay. If they make sense within the context of the story. Holy shit. It was just rambling, okay? That aside, like, his horrific writing style, that alone, I gave it 2.5 stars because I couldn't get past it. The actual meat and potatoes of the story is this woman is a governess. She answers a call in a newspaper, like, seeking governance work in the city, you know, pays well, whatever. She's like 19, 20. She's like, okay, yay. She goes in for an interview and the guy's like, ah, yes, excellent. He's very charming. He's handsome, he's rich. He's, you know, single. He's a womanizer. Again, none of these details fucking matter. He goes, you're perfect for the position. Like, will you accept I only have one caveat. And she's like, yes, sir, Anything. What? He goes, don't ever call me to complain. Because the kids that she's going to, like, be the governess to are his dead brother's kids who are out in a country manor who have been living like their parents are dead, their grandparents are dead. He, this handsome young gentleman is the only surviving relative of these poor little kids, okay? And he doesn't give a fuck about them. He does not give a fuck. So he's looking for some governess that he can pass them on to and, like, totally raise them and, you know, never have to think about them ever again. This woman's like, sure, okay. Yeah, I won't bother you not thinking twice of it. Well, of course, finally, we come to a detail that they circle back to, which is the master has been told. Has told everyone who is in his employment. If there is an issue with the raising of these children, with anything from the school, from whatever. Don't. I don't want to hear about it. Don't contact me. And she's like, okay. So she goes off, she meets them. They're little angel children, okay? They keep saying that. Fucking author, Henry James. And fuck, Henry James. Keeps saying this. Oh, they're little angel children. They're little. They're the most beautiful, innocent. Kept saying beautiful, like. Which, honestly, I have issues with this book too. Because in true Victorian fashion, they would haunt at or hint at horrors, unimaginable horrors and torments and, you know, sin and just perverted, disgusting, whatever, but they never reveal it, which of course, I respect and I understand that kind of storytelling, which is the more unimaginable it is, the more horrific we can only, you know. The most terrifying thing is the unknown. It's preying on that kind of dynamic. I'm getting all mad again, like, thinking about this fucking book. She goes out there and meets the kids, falls in love with the kids. The boy. There's a boy of 10 and a little girl of 8. Okay? I believe that's the. The age difference. Immediately upon arrival, she gets a letter from the master that says, hey, hope everything's all right out there. Got this letter in the mail. I don't give a fuck. Like, I can't be bothered to open it. It was addressed to the master. He was like, just open it. Just deal with it, okay? I don't want to hear it. No complaints, no nothing. Just handle it. And she's like, okay, okay, okay. She opens it. It's a letter from the school that the little boy goes to. And it says he's been expelled. Doesn't expound on why or expand on why. It doesn't detail anything that happened at the school. It's just he is expelled and he is never invited back. And she's like, what the fuck? And there's another woman who works in this household just out in the country, and she's like, well, what are you going to do? And the governess is like, nothing. I'm not gonna bother the master and fuck the school. Okay? Yay. Well, things kind of develop. She gets close to the kids, whatever. One night she's out in the lawn and she's put the kids to bed. And it's like dusk, and she's just kind of sitting out there alone, admiring the countryside. And she looks at the house and up on top of like this little tower, because it's a big, you know, mansion. It's an estate. Is a man. Oh, a man standing on top of the house, staring at her. Bright red hair, ugly, like, dressed well, staring at her. And they just like make eye contact for a long time. And then he turns around and disappears. Huh. Okay. So immediately it's like, okay, what's going on? What's going on? She doesn't mention it to anyone, which, like, why? Bitch, I would have been telling everyone there's a man on the fucking road. He's gonna jump, he's gonna jump. He's gonna do a kickflip. Do a kickflip. She goes, a few days pass, maybe a week. She's about to go out on another walk. She remembers she leaves her gloves in one of the rooms. So she quickly goes back into the house. She's looking for her gloves. Ah, she sees them. They're on a chair. She goes to grab them. And this chair is by the window. She looks up, the man is standing right outside the window again, bright red hair, staring at her, a stare down, I mean, forehead pressed against the glass, that close to the fucking window. I'm creeping myself out. She goes. But she doesn't overreact, okay? She just freezes. They have another stare down. And then she decides in that moment I'm gonna be brave. And she goes outside. Like, she makes her way outside to be like, hey, who the fuck are you? And like, what are you doing? The minute she gets out there, he's gone. And there's nowhere he could have gone. There's no shrubs, there's no nothing. Like the line of trees is way out. He couldn't have run that far. And it was still kind of light outside. Well, she goes, and she's looking out there and then she sees the other woman who works in the house enter the room looking for her. Because she just disappeared as she goes and stands in that place that the guy was standing and puts her forehead against the glass and starts staring at this woman. Fucking creepo. And then of course, the woman is like, oh, my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. What are you doing, dumb bitch? And she comes outside and she's like, miss, what is happening? Like, are you okay? Or do you feel well, she was like, Mrs. Gross is the name of this other lady. There was a Man out here staring at me. And I saw him on the top of the building as well. And the woman's like, what? And then she starts describing what he looked like, what he was wearing. Well, Mrs. Gross recognizes, oh, yeah, he used to be here. That's a guy. His name's Peter Quint. And the governess is like, what the fuck? Yeah, it's Peter Quint. He died. Oh. So now we see that she's been seeing a ghost. Okay? Then all of these crazy, what's it called, extrapolations start occurring in her mind. She starts making all these crazy decisions of, like, certainties around this ghost. The ghost is there to steal the little boy. There's another woman ghost who was the old governess who also died. Mysterious circumstances, which, by the way, we never know. It's never revealed how these people died, which also pissed me off, because you're gonna, like, carry the suspense the whole book. And then at the end, we still don't know, she comes up in her head with this idea that they both want, individually, the kids. And the kids are almost too angelic. It's, like, not normal. And they never talk about their lives at school. They never talk about friends, they never talk about their parents, their grandparents, nothing. It's almost as if they started existing when the governess got there. Very strange. Very like, I don't know if it's just shitty writing or if he just didn't care enough to go into the backstory or if he thought so. Here, here's the thing. Whatever, you know, she starts seeing the ghosts more and more, and the kids start acting weird, and the kids start almost alluding to the fact that they know. But then when she confronts the kids about the ghosts, they're like, you're crazy and weird and I don't want to see you anymore and you should leave. And then she's like, what the fuck? Then she sends the girl off with Mrs. Gross, and it's just her and the little boy. And this final scene. I'm gonna ruin the book for you. You don't have to read it. Okay, if you want to, then skip ahead. The final scene is her sitting in the dining room with a little boy who's probably like 12 at this point. And she asks him outright, why were you expelled from school? Surely you know. And he's playing, you know, cat and mouse with her. Like, the little boy has been in control this whole time. Creepy ass little boy. He's like, maybe I said some things. She's like, what the fuck did you say? And he's like, can't remember. And she's like, well, who did you say it to? Some other students. She's like, what did you say? And then he's looking up and he's like, I said it more often than once. And it got up. I got reported. And then I said it to some teachers. And she's like, what did you say? And in the middle of asking him that, guess who's at the fucking window again? Peter Quint, the ghost. She grabs little boy, turns him away from the window. Cause she's worried that if the little boy sees the ghost, he's gonna snatch up his soul or something like that, I don't think. And she's like, just tell me. Like, I'm trying to save you. I'm trying to save your soul. And she's putting all this weird shit on him and whatever. And the end of the book happens by. She goes, do you know, basically they come to terms of like, peter Quint. The little boy has been in contact with Peter Quint. And all of a sudden the little boy dies. That's the end of the book. What? We never return to that original room where everyone's gathered around the fire telling this story. We never return to this idea that the governess survived this and returned and maybe had a romantic affair with Douglas, the fucking narrator, who isn't the narrator. This book was so poorly written, I can't even tell you. But I will say this. The reason I gave it 2.5 stars is because the curiosity, the morbid curiosity did keep me engaged. I mean, the book's only 130 pages. It fucking felt like 700, though. This felt like the longest book I've ever read. And I don't mind a long book. I really don't. This shit pissed me off so bad. Little boy dies, okay, so we never learn about the old governess, why she died. We don't know who Peter Quint was or why he died and what hold he supposedly has over the children. There are also some weird. And I don't know if this was just me, like, pulling out my own. Projecting my own perversions on this. But the way that he wrote this book, he made it sound like this Peter Quint character was sexually, like indecent towards the kids and like groomed them in some way. And that's why the kids are so loyal to him. And the ghosts are telling the kids, don't tell the governess that, you know, what's going on here. And then also she puts these weird projections onto the kids. Of like, she makes it up in her mind that these ghosts are trying to punish the kids and drag them to hell with the ghosts. What? Like, it's all this weird projection. And here's what I did enjoy about the book. Okay, I will give it this. It poses a good question of. Reality is based on the mental state of the observer. If you are psychologically disturbed, if you are tortured, if your worldview has only been suffering and negativity, or if it's only been positivity and love and light, that's going to impact how you move through the world and how you perceive other people and reality and other people's intentions towards you. Okay, that was an interesting question, albeit a kind of simple baseline question of like, everyone's reality's different. What's yours? You know, that kind of thing. This was very like, clearly the governess was disturbed. Okay. I think by the end of the book, the kids were a bit creepy. And I also am wondering why the author kept describing them as perfect little angels or little angel children. That makes me not believe it almost. You know what I mean? Like, why does she keep putting that weird perception on them? They're angels. They're angels. I have to save them from the devil ghosts. And by the way, no one else could see the ghosts until you get that admission at the end that the little boy was like Peter Quint and then he dies. Why did he die? Why did he die? I genuinely. And I. I wanted to read more into it. And then I was like, you know what? I don't give a fuck enough about this book to even. I just did not enjoy it. If you're looking to read Turn of the Screw, don't. And I'm not going to read anything else by Henry James because I fucking hate his writing style. Anyway, moving on. Next, I'm going to start the Monk, which is a gothic. And I say this, but it's not really romance. And by the way, we don't even need to talk about Wuthering Heights. I like, I'm going to go see it and then I guess I'll share my thoughts later. I don't know. I think it comes out this weekend. We'll see what's going on there. Okay. I stand by what I said a few episodes ago. Heathcliff should be a brown man. That is the entire almost point of that fucking story is that he is this other. Especially during Victorian times, especially in the context of a class divide in a gender like marriage divide. Like the idea that Heathcliff being a Brown man found in Liverpool, which was famous for the slave trade. That's where the slave ships would come in. Catherine's father bringing him back to Wuthering Heights and, like, raising him as his own son and still being treated as another. Catherine going off and marrying Heathcliff, going off and making something of himself. He's rich. He is a notable man of, like, wealth and power, but it's still not enough because he's not fucking white. That is the point of this book, okay. That it was a doomed romance. It's the idea of cruelty. It's the idea of elitism and the class divide and all of these, like, topical. And by that, I mean it's still relevant today. That's why this book has withstood the test of time when you whitewash Heathcliff and make him hot, sexy. Jacob Elordi. Yay. Right? Like, sure, for go see the movie if you're just looking to be entertained. But that's not Wuthering Heights. And I get it. That's why it's in quotations and whatever. Yay. I'm just like, that's not. It pissed off a lot of Wuthering Heights enthusiasts. And honestly, I group myself into that a little bit because I loved Wuthering Heights when I read it. And it was not the book that it's pitched as a romance. I would say it's anything but. It's cruelty personified. And revenge. It's a tale of revenge. And I just like, how can you get revenge when I don't know? So that is. That I stand on that. It should have been a brown or black actor, and it's a missed opportunity. So that aside, I'm gonna read the Monk, because that is. Let's look up what the Monk is. The Monk is a foundational Gothic novel detailing the ruin of Ambrosio, a pious Spanish abbot seduced by carnal desire and dark magic. It explores themes of hypocrisy, lust, and religious corruption. Featuring murder, incest, and supernatural elements. The scandalous bestseller remains a landmark in horror literature. Published 1796. Damn. Why is it called a romance? The Monk, A Romance by Matthew Gregory Lewis was published across three volumes. Written early in his career, it was published anonymously when he was 12. 20. What the fuck? Over time, the author came to feel that its writing had been in poor taste. Later editions were heavily censored by the author himself. That's t. Whoa. I wonder what edition I have. Whoa. First edition, second, fourth edition. Lewis wrote to his father in 1798, attempting to make reparations the controversy caused by the Monk was a source of distress to his family. Whoa. There's this fun balance that I enjoy with Victorian literature that is both dipping its toes in taboo because obviously Victorian repression and oppression of the time of anyone who wasn't a white man, and of basic human desires like sex, like, you know, lust of any kind of anything that could be considered a carnal desire. Also to extend to things like money, greed, you know, whatever. I think that some of the best, I don't know, books, some of the most fun reads, are ones that defy those Victorian, I guess, societal guardrails. And at the time, you know, of course, things like Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights or Tenant of Wildfeld hall, all these things. The Bronte Sisters books were so taboo and, like, not well liked, and it's because they didn't fit into what was acceptable at the time. But there is a reason why they've stood the test of time. They're great books, and they explore human nature and the innate corruption in human nature, and it urges the reader to look inward. Why am I so drawn to this? Why is it fun to break the glass, you know, so to speak, of this pristine image of what a woman is, of what a relationship is, of what, you know, this perfect life that a Victorian, I guess, ideal societal, the. The model life that the powers that be wanted you to live. Like, why is it so fun to live outside of those bounds or to think outside of those bounds or, you know, anything? I think just morbid curiosity. That's one answer. But it's also these things that feel so natural to human nature, like sex and greed and, you know, some of our proclivities towards being horrible. It's fun to explore that in a literary setting of, look what happens when you indulge those sensations, when you indulge those curiosities. And is it wrong, per se, as a woman, specifically, to indulge in that just because, you know, a woman's sexuality has been criminalized for so long? I don't know. So those things are fun to me, but I don't know, the Monk might be. I'll come back with my report on that, because that shit's crazy. Some of the. The things I just read in that Wikipedia sounds really fucking crazy. So. Okay, y', all, in the spirit of that, Valentine's Day is this weekend. Happy Galentine's Day. Seriously, what are you guys doing for Galentine's Day? What are you guys doing for Gay Guys Day? We are. Here's something that I would like everyone listening to implement. Okay. Also, by the way, go watch last year's episode on the history of Valentine's Day because that shit's weird. It's. It's really strange. And if you haven't seen that episode, go back and watch it because I'm not going to be doing a deep dive today. But yeah, we explored some crazy. They used to slap women with goat hides. Yay. Part of Valentine's Day tradition. So maybe let's bring that back this year. Except men. Let's slap men with goat hides. Men and any mask leaning people. You're getting slapped with a goat hide this year if you're in Broski Nation. Okay. I want to encourage everyone listening to take yourself out for Valentine's Day. I know, it's fucking corny. Be your own Valentine. Shut the fuck up, bitch. I'm tired of cringe culture. Cringe culture is dead. It's time to live earnestly. It's time to do things nice for yourself. Do nice things for yourself and don't feel guilty or cringe about doing it. Huh? Huh? Oh, is it? Yeah, just do it. I'm sick of fucking hearing about it. Literally, the overlap between this concept of, like, treating yourself the way you would want a romantic partner to treat you and the, you know, go wash your face, girl, put my hair up in a messy bun and handle it that shit. There is a crossover there. Only because it's been commodified. Okay? I'm not looking to commodify treating ourselves with the love and care that we crave. Okay? Because here's the thing, and I love to say this, and I'm going to keep saying it forever because I mean it. A man is not the point. A man is not the point. A man is not a key to happiness. A man is not the key to unlocking a fulfilling and wholesome life. A man is not going to fix your problems. If anything, he's going to give you problems. A man is not going to be the end all. Be all of your existence. Let that go. Life is so much more yay around shit like Valentine's Day. It's so when I watch these videos, be like, I'm single. I wish I wasn't single. Oh, my God. I just. Wow. Must be nice. You know those, like, crying hamster emojis in the TikTok comment section? It's not the point. Valentine's Day is just another fucking holiday for CVS pharmacy to sell fucking chocolate. Like, I'm so. It's fine being reminded of your loneliness. That's the point, right? That's what they want you to feel. So you. Bye. Bye.
