734: Shaved Dick On Toast
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How are snipers? Welcome to the podcast. This is not for radio. We are your hosts, believe it or not, Duncan Hyde, Jay Reeve, semi-professional outfit this is. Been on the podcast today. I'm going to give you a full Costco review. Went to that ginormous American supermarket for the first time.
Things took a massive turn when unboxing a gift that was sent to us. Holy fuck. I'm not going to lie to you. If you've got a weak gut, the start of this podcast is going to be a shit show for you.
Also new segment, Grand Theft Benny. We talk about shaving dick and eating it on toast. Jay does. He's super keen on it. How to make money in a cab that is black. I'm not sorry. I was going to say hallucinations. Epilepsy explained by somebody that has it. More on the stone skimming trip to the north. Potentially some big guests lined up too, which Benny Boy touches on. Yeah, and we're in recruitment now.
A couple of people wanting to move out from Canada and get into basically living next door to Dunk and working on big, cool shit.
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Do you reckon in this room, it's quite big, but do you reckon we've breathed in each other's breaths since we've been in here?
Yes. Definitely. Yeah, man. You don't feel brand new after being in here for as long as what we do, eh? No. Let's get out and get some fresh air. You can listen to the podcast. It's a ripper today. Knopf Raider comes to you thanks to Classic Builders. 30 years, thousands of homes, and still run by people who care about doing it right. Legends. Oh, this one here. Benny Boyz said this one here has got to be our Classic Builders classic yarn for the week. So thank you very much, Classic Builders. Your weapons.
Attention snipers, gear up and hold your positions. It's time to load up some war stories. Your tales from the frontline, brought to life. Prepare to fire.
Right, this one's a David Longey. Let's go! It's from Matty Gibbs in Somerset in England. So if you know Matt Gibbs from Somerset in England, this is his story. During the depressing period of isolation and non-contact that was COVID-19, DIY had become the order of the day. So off I went to the local general in a DIY shop for supplies to stop us all going mad during isolation. After parking up, I realised, fuck, I'd forgotten to bring what was at the time compulsory, a face mask. Searching our little van that we use to walk our eight dogs, fucking eight dogs. Shit.
What are you, fucking Cruella de Vil?
Matt would just have a fucking green dog shit bag attached to his hip at all times, eh?
Oh, good foreshadowing, James.
I found a lone disposable blue mask in the passenger footwell, slightly dirty from its journeys in the utility vehicle. But I didn't want to drive home, so it was a result in my mind. Pleased with my find, I proceeded to queue two metres apart with multiple other shoppers. As I got close to the shop, I put my mask on. Isn't that fucked when you get those reminders?
Mm-hmm.
it's so odd like it just seems so foreign now right scanning into a store anywho i once stopped uh it was once in the shop that i realized the person in front of me and dropped his guts a miserable prick Half, and that gets under your mask. As I continued meandering my way through the shelves of screws, toilet paper and gardening gnomes, I realised the poor bloke must have actually been playing a fucking trumpet solo. The stench was following him, and by the time we made it to the car spare's aisle, I was concerned for his underwear, thinking he must have shat himself.
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