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Not Too Old To Podcast

It was Date Night 2018 last night, and the end of the evening was kind of a blur.

My wife did send along this picture of me taking a leak off my front deck (even though a bathroom was on the other side of the wall), which led me to this revelation…

porch piss

I really am an old weirdo (and this picture looks like I am being jerked off by a wooden bear).

—– By the way… Taking a drunken leak with one hand automatically precludes having a big cock. ——

It’s not a huge deal for me, getting old. Nothing that moves my needle.  It’s just that over the past few months I have realized that I have totally lost track with what is happening with the younger generation.

Case in point is Barstool’s newest hire, Ellie.  She’s a social media superstar and I am 100% certain we don’t understand each other.  First off, we are physical opposites.  Some guy took a pic of us yesterday and we looked like we should be in the vestibule of a Ripley’s Believe It Or Not attraction.  She is 4 foot 9 tops, while I am 6 foot 5 bottom, and together we look like what would happen if an attractive girl visited a home for retired freak show employees.


I asked Ellie if she could help me increase my social media presence, and she graciously said yes in the same way a grandkid might offer to help her Papa out with his TIVO.

Another case in point… I had a business dinner last week with some former associates.  One of them brought along his trading partner who just happened to be an attractive girl in her mid 20s.  She had blond hair that was pulled up high in a tight bun.  At one point in the meal, she asked to borrow my reading glasses because the menu had such small print.  My glasses’ prescription is similar to that of Mr Magoo, so the young lady quickly pulled them off her face before a stray beam of light magnified in my lenses and burnt her retinas.  But in that scant 5 seconds, as she sat there all attractive and bespectacled, I commented that her look was reminiscent of the first 5 seconds of every Van Halen video ever made.


This girl had a class and sensibility far beyond her years, so she sheepishly nodded her head to the Van Halen reference that I awkwardly made even though she had ZERO clue what the fuck I was talking about.  But the modicum of discomfort/confusion she visibly had over my reference reinforced what I already knew… I am old, and (next to younger girls) I am creepy.

Final case in point… Even though Dave and Erika were generous enough in making this venture worth my while, Kevin Clancy is the reason I am at Barstool.  Coincidentally, I am chomping at the bit to do more projects with him across the many platforms that Barstool provides.  This week, he graciously asked me to come on KFC Radio‘s podcast he cohosts with Feits, and the meat of the podcast would revolve around an old Wall Street story I have told many times about the evening where I was molested by NHL Hall of Famer, Ray Bourque.

(I am gonna dig up original Bourque story for Wall Street Wednesday next week)

As I was taping the segment, the Bourque story brought the house down (as it so often does), but then we quickly transitioned to mailbag questions.

That’s when I was brought back down to earth.

I went from telling a story of a customer Christmas dinner in Boston’s North End in the early 2000’s to some nameless broad calling in to ask Clancy and Feits (and me) about how often we look at girls’ assholes during sex.


I was taken aback, but tried to rally as best as a guy my age can.

I would go more into it, but I think instead I would urge you to tune into this latest episode of KFC Radio available on iTunes, and see just how well this old son of a bitch fared in this universe of young madness.

On the off chance I used the technology correctly, the link to the podcast should be at the top of this blog.

Lemme know how I did.

Take a report.