Jock Trap

On this week's episode, we cast our reboot of the failed Queer Eye and pitch why Netflick needs to run us one to three billion dollars for our genius. Food, style, hair, design, culture; we've got it all henny! 

Oh mama, Halloween? It's aboot to get Fierce. The Jock Trap crew and Clasher Mans have decided that this year? It's all about the Barbarian. Get your nasty nipples on those bottles and tell mama you want that milk, honey! Get on down to New York City November 8th-23rd to take part in the Ultimate Barbarian Cosplay Contest with Clasher Mans! Just don't get Jock Trapped in your Hair B&B dungeon, little girl! 

Bex opens the episode with a mental saw trap involving Franklin Grande and Pilgrim Harry. Frey Ruveals how much and how often he wants that Corn Sweat. Bri gives 'em the ole Saw trap clapback with an evil guessing game to determine which mediocre horror films he's been watching.

Frey brings the hot topics, including ugly authors and A.I. art Patreon grifts. Bri discusses Pop Mart as an opiate and gags everyone with a yassified retelling of the Odyssey. Bex is balding and has his shoes on the carpet. We all review the recent batch of horrible movie trailers.

This week we take a trip through television she/herstory as we reflect on the disturbing, traumatizing, and sickening (both meanings) programming block: Adult Swim. 

The trap is a little smaller this week while the Trappers prepare for a queen-sized episode to come! In this episode, we bravely and boldly come out AGAINST doordash drivers, doordash customers, and tipping. Period! 

Y'all remember Pedobear?! We discuss the possible Gen Z Homestuck renaissance, D.A.R.E., furry edutainment performers warning against sexual assault, and revisiting PC games of our childhoodseses.

We toot or boot Cabaret starring Lies of Man Ellie. Bri GOES OFF on PC Gamers. And but now we said it: playing Xbox is dysphoric (except Viva Piñata). We just say "No!" to a budding Skylander addiction. And of COURSE...Labubu hunting...

We kick things off with a reading check, fondly reminisce about the 2020 lockdown, and deadass talk about David Lynch and Twin Peaks so you all better download this one.

We interrogate belly button beauty standards, break the news of Harper Lee's whiteness, make a call to arms against the tow truck industrial complex, and briefly review Torrey Peters' Stag Dance (well, one of us does.)

We discuss, answer, and bemoan questions people may or may not be deadass in asking over on r/Writing. Does it matter if a book is "good"? Will anyone notice if you copy Brandy Sandy's Son and change the proper nouns? Race?!

We discuss, answer, and bemoan questions people may or may not be deadass in asking over on r/Writing. Does it matter if a book is "good"? Will anyone notice if you copy Brandy Sandy's Son and change the proper nouns? Race?!

All about dating apps, Chobits, day care, and motorcycle dads.

The Trappers' friendships begin to strain as their sick and twisted edition of the newlyweds' game continues.

Will a bout of the newlyweds game spell divorce for the podcast?

We take a quiz to see who knows the most about classique werks of literature and the writers thereof. We learn the shocking truth about the pronunciation of the name "Fyodor." We didn't already done had enough of ourses, so Frey administers a sickening quiz all about RuPaul's Drag Race. Clock THAT tea. Bex learns that Furbies aren't feline in appearance. A Ru-girl died and Bri just heard...

We do NOT fall for all-over-body deodorant! We GO IN on Throb Zombie and drag kings everywhere! Bex SLAMS recent horror film Annabelle (2024)! Frey STANDS UP for the inclusion of minors in the yaoi otaku box! We CLAP BACK at therapists! Bex THROWS SHADE at the critics of Hilarious Baldwin! Bri and Frey CALL OUT broke writers!

We resume our discussion from last episode by noting how Paul G. Tremblay's The Cabin at the End of the World differs from its film adaptation. We also discuss the Southern Reach trilogy, problematique age gaps, our relationships with Scooby-Doo, and erotic My Hero Academia fanart.

We discuss the 2023 film Knock at the cabin, directed by M. Night Shyamalan. Is it a messy attempt at pro-gay sentiment or a stunningly blatant homophobic screed?

[Intro: Dido] My tea’s gone cold, I’m wondering why I Got out of bed at all The morning rain clouds up my window And I can’t see at all And even if I could it’d all be gray But your picture on my wall It reminds me that it’s not so bad, it’s not so bad [Chorus: Dido] My tea’s gone cold, I’m wondering why I Got out of bed at all The morning rain clouds up my window And I can’t see at all And even if I could it’d all be gray But your picture on my wall It reminds me that it’s not so bad, it’s not so bad [Verse 1: Eminem] Dear Slim, I wrote you, but you still ain’t callin’ I left my cell, my pager and my home phone at the bottom I sent two letters back in autumn, you must not’ve got ’em There probably was a problem at the post office or somethin’ Sometimes I scribble addresses too sloppy when I jot ’em But anyways, fuck it, what’s been up, man? How’s your daughter? My girlfriend’s pregnant too, I’m ’bout to be a father If I have a daughter, guess what I’ma call her? I’ma name her Bonnie I read about your Uncle Ronnie too, I’m sorry I had a friend kill himself over some bitch who didn’t want him I know you probably hear this every day, but I’m your biggest fan I even got the underground shit that you did with Skam I got a room full of your posters and your pictures, man I like the shit you did with Rawkus too, that shit was phat Anyways, I hope you get this, man, hit me back Just to chat, truly yours, your biggest fan, this is Stan [Chorus: Dido] My tea’s gone cold, I’m wondering why I Got out of bed at all The morning rain clouds up my window And I can’t see at all And even if I could it’d all be gray But your picture on my wall It reminds me that it’s not so bad, it’s not so bad [Verse 2: Eminem] Dear Slim, you still ain’t called or wrote, I hope you have a chance I ain’t mad, I just think it’s fucked up you don’t answer fans If you didn’t want to talk to me outside your concert, you didn’t have to But you coulda signed an autograph for Matthew That’s my little brother, man, he’s only six years old We waited in the blisterin’ cold For you, for four hours, and you just said no That’s pretty shitty, man, you’re like his fuckin’ idol He wants to be just like you, man, he likes you more than I do I ain’t that mad, though I just don’t like bein’ lied to Remember when we met in Denver? You said if I’d write you, you would write back See, I’m just like you in a way: I never knew my father neither He used to always cheat on my mom and beat her I can relate to what you’re sayin’ in your songs So when I have a shitty day, I drift away and put ’em on ‘Cause I don’t really got shit else So that shit helps when I’m depressed I even got a tattoo with your name across the chest Sometimes I even cut myself to see how much it bleeds It’s like adrenaline, the pain is such a sudden rush for me See, everything you say is real, and I respect you ‘cause you tell it My girlfriend’s jealous ’cause I talk about you 24/7 But she don’t know you like I know you, Slim, no one does She don’t know what it was like for people like us growin’ up You gotta call me, man, I’ll be the biggest fan you’ll ever lose Sincerely yours, Stan—P.S. We should be together too [Chorus: Dido] My tea’s gone cold, I’m wondering why I Got out of bed at all The morning rain clouds up my window And I can’t see at all And even if I could it’d all be gray But your picture on my wall It reminds me that it’s not so bad, it’s not so bad [Verse 3: Eminem] Dear Mr. I’m-Too-Good-to-Call-or-Write-My-Fans This’ll be the last package I ever send your ass It’s been six months, and still no word—I don’t deserve it? I know you got my last two letters, I wrote the addresses on ’em perfect So this is my cassette I’m sendin’ you, I hope you hear it I’m in the car right now, I’m doin’ 90 on the freeway Hey, Slim, I drank a fifth of vodka, you dare me to drive? You know the song by Phil Collins, “In the Air of the Night” About that guy who coulda saved that other guy from drownin’ But didn’t, then Phil saw it all, then at a show he found him? That’s kinda how this is: you coulda rescued me from drownin’ Now it’s too late, I’m on a thousand downers now—I’m drowsy And all I wanted was a lousy letter or a call I hope you know I ripped all of your pictures off the wall I loved you, Slim, we coulda been together—think about it! You ruined it now, I hope you can’t sleep and you dream about it And when you dream I hope you can’t sleep and you scream about it I hope your conscience eats at you and you can’t breathe without me See, Slim—shut up, bitch! I’m tryin’ to talk Hey, Slim, that’s my girlfriend screamin’ in the trunk But I didn’t slit her throat, I just tied her up—see? I ain’t like you ‘Cause if she suffocates she’ll suffer more and then she’ll die too Well, gotta go, I’m almost at the bridge now Oh, shit, I forgot—how am I supposed to send this shit out?! [Chorus: Dido] My tea’s gone cold, I’m wondering why I Got out of bed at all The morning rain clouds up my window And I can’t see at all And even if I could it’d all be gray But your picture on my wall It reminds me that it’s not so bad, it’s not so bad [Verse 4: Eminem] Dear Stan, I meant to write you sooner, but I just been busy You said your girlfriend’s pregnant now, how far along is she? Look, I’m really flattered you would call your daughter that And here’s an autograph for your brother; I wrote it on a Starter cap I’m sorry I didn’t see you at the show, I must’ve missed you Don’t think I did that shit intentionally just to diss you But what’s this shit you said about you like to cut your wrists too? I say that shit just clownin’, dawg, come on, how fucked up is you? You got some issues, Stan, I think you need some counselin’ To help your ass from bouncin’ off the walls when you get down some And what’s this shit about us meant to be together? That type of shit’ll make me not want us to meet each other I really think you and your girlfriend need each other Or maybe you just need to treat her better I hope you get to read this letter, I just hope it reaches you in time Before you hurt yourself, I think that you’ll be doin’ just fine If you relax a little, I’m glad I inspire you, but Stan Why are you so mad? Try to understand that I do want you as a fan I just don’t want you to do some crazy shit I seen this one shit on the news a couple weeks ago that made me sick Some dude was drunk and drove his car over a bridge And had his girlfriend in the trunk, and she was pregnant with his kid And in the car they found a tape, but they didn’t say who it was to Come to think about it, his name was—it was you Damn…