The Viktor Wilt Show

Viktor Wilt

The Viktor Wilt Show daily recap! If you miss the show weekdays from 6A-10A MST, you've come to the right place.

  1. 6d ago ·  Bonus

    NHOMAM - Arthur Morgan Got Sober Because Viktor Made Him - 09/08/2026

    Peaches returns from California with approximately three pounds of beach trauma, one successful hibachi rice catch, a deeply questionable relationship with In-N-Out Burger, and the realization that apparently Southern California contains enough seaweed, sharks, dead birds, wealthy beach people, and confusing airport traffic to qualify as its own ecosystem. After landing at John Wayne Airport, Peaches immediately acquires a rental car directly from the Turo guy like some kind of automotive red carpet celebrity and heads straight for In-N-Out, because apparently nothing says “I have arrived in California” like immediately eating a hamburger. The beach portion of the trip quickly descends into marine-life paranoia when Matt convinces Peaches to venture into the ocean before announcing that he sees a massive shark, causing Peaches to execute an emergency retreat from the Pacific. Things get even more horrifying when a dead sandpiper washes around near them while another bird starts attacking and apparently attempting to eat it, while seaweed wraps around Peaches' ankle and briefly transforms a relaxing beach vacation into an episode of “What Is Touching My Leg?” The group eventually encounters an armless teenage boy whose friends are encouraging him to go farther into the water, producing one of the most aggressively confusing beach situations imaginable.  The California vacation continues through Huntington Beach and Newport Beach, where Peaches discovers that Newport apparently comes with its own uniform consisting of bleach-blonde hair, an aggressive tan, denim shorts, and a father who makes significantly more money than everyone listening. Peaches and his friends wander into this wealthy coastal habitat looking like three people who accidentally got off at the wrong bus stop, before celebrating his birthday with dinner at Nick's in Laguna Beach and later visiting Kobe's steakhouse, where Peaches manages to accomplish what appears to be the greatest athletic achievement of the entire episode: catching a tiny ball of hibachi rice in his mouth while everyone else gets food bounced directly off their faces. His dad takes a rice-based projectile directly to the chin, proving once again that hibachi restaurants are essentially dinner theater with the possibility of minor facial injuries.  Then, because apparently one In-N-Out pilgrimage wasn't enough, Peaches spends Labor Day weekend driving roughly two hours to Twin Falls with Bryson and Charlotte specifically to visit the stores and consume another In-N-Out burger. Unfortunately, Charlotte immediately announces that they have no money to spend at TJ Maxx, which means the entire road trip has been reduced to an extremely elaborate hamburger delivery system. The drive itself inspires a ranking of Idaho towns that goes places no tourism board would ever willingly go, followed by complaints about Burley, American Falls, and various other communities. Once they arrive at the Twin Falls In-N-Out, the mood changes dramatically as they encounter security guards and a memorial outside the restaurant connected to the earlier tragedy there. What was supposed to be a carefree burger destination has become a deeply somber location, with Peaches reflecting on what the employees may have experienced. Then, naturally, the conversation eventually migrates to Spirit Halloween, black body paint, and Peaches' plan to transform himself into Vessel, because emotional whiplash is apparently the primary programming format of this show.  Meanwhile, the other half of the episode is essentially a live documentary about Viktor discovering that sobriety makes shopping significantly more annoying. Viktor explains that he decided to stop drinking again after realizing that alcohol was costing him money and making him feel terrible. Unfortunately, he chose Friday—the beginning of a three-day weekend—as his starting point, then immediately stayed at Becca's workplace and overdid it, waking up Saturday feeling miserable and beginning his sober streak while already angry with himself. His coping strategy becomes an astonishing combination of gritting his teeth, watching disgusting serial-killer videos, avoiding people, and playing Red Dead Redemption 2 for an almost medically significant number of hours. Even Arthur Morgan gets dragged into the experiment, with the revelation that Arthur is also sober because if Viktor has to suffer, apparently the cowboy must suffer too. The ultimate objective is to finish 100% of Red Dead Redemption 2 and then replay GTA 5 before GTA 6 arrives, which is exactly the kind of ambitious productivity plan someone develops while avoiding every household responsibility imaginable.  The sobriety discussion becomes surprisingly candid as Peaches talks about his friend Matt being nearly five months sober after previously drinking every day, while Viktor reaches day four and declares that this time he intends to keep going. The conversation veers through hidden alcohol bottles, coolers full of beer, drinking every day, and the deeply cursed concept of keeping alcohol in your car at all times. There is also an anecdote about a family graduation party where the family accidentally acquired Corona for guests, only for Christian to essentially arrive and receive the entire beer supply like he had just won an extremely irresponsible game show. Beneath all the jokes, though, the episode makes an important point: alcohol dependence can be serious, and anyone considering quitting heavy drinking should talk to a doctor rather than abruptly stopping on their own because withdrawal can be dangerous.  The episode then takes a hard left turn into microphone abuse, wedding officiating, funerals, and the Eastern Idaho State Fair. Peaches is preparing to officiate a wedding, which somehow leads to a rant about people who don't know how to properly hold or use a microphone. The duo discusses politicians whose microphones sound like they're being broadcast through a collapsing speaker cabinet, before Viktor recounts the Eastern Idaho State Fair food judging experience where the PA system was apparently operating at a volume normally reserved for communicating with astronauts. Brandon's microphone technique becomes less of a public-address system and more of an auditory siege weapon. The fair itself was celebrating America's 250th anniversary with aggressively patriotic decorations, while the conversation somehow evolves into jokes about America's economy, fair-food prices, tipping screens, and what would happen if Viktor were allowed anywhere near a microphone at a public event without Jay physically stopping him.  Finally, the episode turns into a bizarre airborne movie marathon. Peaches watches Obsession on the flight back from California and becomes increasingly invested in the movie just as the aircraft begins experiencing turbulence, creating the perfect combination of psychological horror and involuntary aviation anxiety. He then watches Weird: The Al Yankovic Story, which features Daniel Radcliffe as Weird Al, Jack Black, Conan O'Brien, Rainn Wilson, Madonna, Pablo Escobar, fake musical history, absurd shootouts, and a version of Weird Al's life that has apparently been reconstructed by someone who consumed approximately 400 gallons of parody music and then lost contact with reality. Just before landing, the flight attendant asks whether there is a doctor or nurse aboard, immediately transforming Peaches' smooth flight into an episode of Grey's Anatomy: Regional Jet Edition. A passenger is experiencing a medical emergency, a nurse comes forward, oxygen is administered, and the Idaho Falls Fire Department eventually helps the passenger off the plane. Peaches spends the entire ordeal simultaneously worrying about the man's health and wondering how quickly...

    NHOMAM - Arthur Morgan Got Sober Because Viktor Made Him - 09/08/2026
  2. 6d ago

    #0421 - The Time I Said That Royal Bliss Betrayed Rock And Roll, Then My Listeners Snitched On Me - 09/09/2026

    The morning is cold enough that summer appears to have finally packed its bags, and Viktor is immediately confronted with the horrifying reality of his garage, which he had entered merely to locate some markers and instead discovered was apparently one winter away from becoming an archaeological site. That spirals directly into an internet thread about the secret signs that people who work inside strangers' homes—repair technicians, cleaners, movers, realtors and other unfortunate professionals—notice when a house is much worse behind the scenes than it appears. The discussion starts with ordinary messiness but quickly takes a hard left into broken doors, abusive relationships, mysteriously spotless homes with children, outside locks that suggest the presence of an underground dungeon, and the general realization that a dirty house can sometimes be connected to depression, stress or simply the fact that life is exhausting. Viktor ultimately has enough of this psychological horror, decides he needs to clean his house one room at a time, briefly considers selling the whole thing and moving somewhere smaller, and shuts down the thread before it can convince him to bulldoze his own garage. After that, the central question becomes much more important: how the hell can Viktor get rich? He admits that looking at his credit-card bills produced such an intense level of anxiety that it took him three days just to actually open them, so naturally the reasonable solution is to become wealthy overnight. The search for instant financial salvation produces a collection of absurd success stories: a lawn-care worker who accepted stock options from a struggling startup and later received a life-changing check when the company was acquired; a whistleblower who discovered massive corporate fraud, disappeared from the company, and eventually resurfaced years later with a seven-figure payoff and a cushy arrangement in the Dutch Caribbean; and a video-game streamer who accepted Dogecoin from viewers for doing stupid things in games, accumulated roughly five million coins, watched the value explode, sold everything, paid off his house and quit his job. Viktor looks at all of this and basically concludes that apparently the secret to financial independence is either mowing lawns, discovering corporate fraud or accidentally becoming a Dogecoin millionaire. Since nobody is currently offering him stock options, he moves on to lottery winners, inheritances and pandemic mask entrepreneurs, briefly jokes about needing another pandemic so he can sell anime masks, immediately clarifies that he is joking, and concludes that humanity would probably completely lose its collective mind if another major pandemic happened.  Then the coffee kicks in, Royal Bliss starts playing, and suddenly Viktor is dragged backward through decades of Idaho music-scene history. He revisits his relationship with Royal Bliss, explaining that while he likes the band members and has no real beef with them, he once got into an argument with someone from their management team at a Battle of the Bands in Twin Falls. Viktor was already sick with the flu, didn't want to perform, hated the entire concept of Battle of the Bands, and believed the competitions were inherently ridiculous because voting often rewards whoever brought the most friends while judging panels are subjective enough to turn the entire thing into musical roulette. He also remembers being a Battle of the Bands judge himself and realizing that being a judge is essentially volunteering to make most of the local music scene hate you. His own band performed while he was sick, lost, and Viktor uses the experience to once again declare that metal bands apparently aren't allowed to win these things. He then recounts filming the extremely glamorous "backstage" area—basically the area behind an outdoor stage at a bar—when a man told him Royal Bliss didn't want bands filming back there. Viktor's response was essentially, "Go get Royal Bliss and have them tell me themselves," and nobody ever did.  The Royal Bliss saga then escalates into the legendary period when the band experimented with country music. Viktor had spent years supporting them as a rock band and apparently felt personally betrayed by their temporary country direction, so he went on air and declared that Royal Bliss had betrayed rock and roll. Naturally, listeners immediately did what listeners do best: snitch. Neil from Royal Bliss ended up calling the station, leading to an on-air conversation in which Viktor explained himself, apologized for getting carried away, and apparently maintained a good relationship with the band afterward. A caller named Patrick joins the discussion, reminiscing about local bands, Royal Bliss shows, and the East Idaho music scene, while Viktor repeatedly insists that he has nothing against the actual members of Royal Bliss. Another caller, John, admits he doesn't particularly like Royal Bliss, but the conversation eventually wanders into an enormous barn with surprisingly good acoustics, the possibility of holding an outdoor festival there, camping, bathroom logistics, hunting season, a giant console stereo and, naturally, Pantera. The segment ends with Viktor desperately warning everyone not to misrepresent his historical discussion as a fresh Royal Bliss attack because he would very much like to survive the day without getting yelled at by the band.  The freak-news portion then begins with a story so bizarre that even the headline sounds like it was generated by a malfunctioning crime-news algorithm: a man in Monticello was charged with murder reportedly stemming from a dispute over a cat. Viktor, being a cat owner himself, desperately wants to know what the cat actually did to trigger the argument, but the available information doesn't explain it. Was the cat peeing on somebody's stuff? Was it destroying property? Was it simply being a cat? Nobody knows, but Viktor is very clear that regardless of how irritating an animal might become, shooting someone over a pet dispute is not an acceptable conflict-resolution strategy. From there the news veers into other unpleasant stories, Canadian booze and a supposed ban involving Canadian alcoholic beverages, dairy products and motorcycles, prompting Viktor to wonder why Canada is apparently being treated like the terrifying northern wasteland it clearly isn't. The Canadian segment concludes with jokes about building a wall along the northern border and the sudden existential tragedy of potentially losing access to Canadian booze.  Then comes the Great National Holiday Argument. Viktor and Peaches discuss Labor Day, whether unemployed people should celebrate it, and the obvious injustice of people having to work on holidays while everyone else gets the day off. Viktor advocates for more days off and argues that if something is designated a national holiday, pretty much everyone should get to enjoy it, except for absolutely necessary services. Peaches suggests that this is precisely where robots should take over. The conversation drifts into politics when Viktor brings up a post about reducing national holidays, while Peaches admits that she avoids politics. Viktor immediately launches into a mini-lecture about why people should pay attention to politics rather than blindly voting by party. Then, because this is apparently the same radio show where serious political analysis and Carl's Jr. breakfast burgers coexist comfortably, the phones explode. Ravonda calls while literally chugging a beer, which is technically unrelated to the topic but spiritually very relevant to the show, and the conversation turns into a full-scale Carl's Jr. feud after Ravonda declares the restaurant terrible and threatens to throw a breakfast burger in Viktor's face. ...

    #0421 - The Time I Said That Royal Bliss Betrayed Rock And Roll, Then My Listeners Snitched On Me - 09/09/2026
  3. Sep 8

    #0420 - I Am Begging HBO Not To Game Of Thrones The Last Of Us - 09/08/2026

    The Viktor Wilt Show returns from a three-day weekend on what is technically Tuesday but spiritually, emotionally, metaphysically, and probably legally a Monday, because apparently the calendar has decided to gaslight everybody. Viktor opens the show by announcing that he survived the weekend without throwing down with the booze, which is apparently a monumental achievement worthy of a parade, a statue, and perhaps the ceremonial presentation of a tiny golden liver. Instead of spending Saturday accomplishing anything remotely productive, Viktor describes himself as essentially becoming a miserable human turd and lying around feeling sorry for himself, while Sunday was largely sacrificed to the ancient deity of video games: Red Dead Redemption 2. He played so much Red Dead that he managed to finish the story yet again and is sitting around 95% completion, because apparently replaying one of the longest video games ever made multiple times is somehow a reasonable life goal. His other major ambition is to reach 100% completion before immediately launching into another playthrough of GTA 5 ahead of GTA 6, while simultaneously remembering that he has an entire house to clean, a garage to excavate, carpets to shampoo, and a winter preparation project waiting to descend upon him like an unpaid debt collector. The morning proceeds into the usual bizarre intersection of actual employment and completely unnecessary nonsense, including a job-of-the-week plug for a customer service specialist/routing and dispatching coordinator at Snake River Disposal in Blackfoot. Apparently, there are real jobs available for people who enjoy phones, logistics, garbage, routing, dispatching, and the thrilling possibility of spending their working hours ensuring that humanity's trash gets where it needs to go. Meanwhile, Viktor is dealing with a four-day headache, insufficient sleep, and the ancient medical technology known as "drink a giant cup of coffee and see what happens." The show then takes a hard left into the apocalypse of television adaptations, as Viktor discovers conflicting information about the future of HBO's The Last of Us. He praises the first season, considers the games masterpieces, and explains his controversial position that The Last of Us Part II is actually better than Part I, before becoming increasingly concerned that HBO is going to shove the remaining story into a single season and recreate the catastrophic "please wrap up every plotline immediately" energy of the final season of Game of Thrones. Viktor's central argument is that stories should be allowed to breathe, rather than being crammed into a plot blender where every character arc gets thrown in, liquefied, and served to the audience in a 47-minute episode. From there, the conversation mutates into a full examination of shows that peaked before somebody in a boardroom decided they should continue forever. Westworld gets dragged into the discussion as an example of a series whose first season was so good that it could have simply stopped there and become legendary, while Yellowstone receives a similar treatment for starting strong and eventually falling off Viktor's personal television cliff. Then comes the Great Fake Cowboy Accusation of 2026. Viktor, who grew up around actual ranchers, farmers, and cowboys, is deeply suspicious of the sudden army of suburban John Dutton cosplay enthusiasts allegedly created by Yellowstone: people who buy a giant truck, put on a cowboy hat, listen to Zach Bryan, and immediately declare themselves cattle-ranching frontier warriors despite apparently never having raised anything more complicated than a houseplant. Viktor's position is devastatingly simple: wearing a cowboy hat does not magically download the Cowboy DLC into your bloodstream. Then comes the concert portion of the program, where Viktor reminds listeners that Sevendust and Theory of a Deadman are coming to the Mountain America Center, and tickets are being given away through the radio station. The plan is simple: hear two songs in a row from either band, call at the specified moment, and potentially win a pair of tickets plus entry into a Theory of a Deadman meet-and-greet drawing. Viktor also confirms that the venue will be configured as a half-venue show, meaning the people who actually attend should have a pretty good view instead of being exiled to the outer reaches of the concert universe. He plans on attending despite it being a work night, because apparently sleep is already an optional side quest in his life. And then Peaches returns. This is where the episode's structural integrity begins to collapse. Viktor had apparently seen Peaches' newly posted "Peaches Manifesto" over the weekend and immediately reacted as though an international terrorist organization had announced its arrival in East Idaho. He jokes about locking his doors, arming himself, activating the cameras, and preparing for whatever horrifying nonsense Peaches had unleashed upon the public. Peaches counters by arriving with an enormous novelty safety pin from In-N-Out, apparently because he has finally discovered the perfect gift for a man who has absolutely no practical need for an enormous safety pin. The object immediately becomes a diaper-related engineering device, an apron fastener, and basically whatever the human imagination can force onto it. The gift exchange escalates when Viktor produces a magnet from Beaver, Utah that he had apparently intended to give Peaches approximately five geological eras earlier. The magnet commemorates the great city of Beaver, Utah, a location whose tourism strategy appears to be built around making visitors giggle at the word "Beaver" until they have no money left. This leads to a discussion of Uranus Fudge Factory, another tourist attraction that has apparently looked at one juvenile joke and decided, "Yes. This shall be the entire economic foundation of this municipality." The conversation then spirals into magnet collecting, expensive refrigerator magnets, a burger magnet from Vegas, a beer-mug magnet from Leavenworth, Washington, and the revelation that Peaches nearly got rid of his entire collection. Viktor reacts as though Peaches had threatened to throw the Declaration of Independence into a wood chipper because, apparently, some of these magnets cost fifteen dollars. The Leavenworth story produces its own side quest involving a public restroom that somehow contains three stalls and three urinals but only permits one person inside at a time. Viktor cannot understand why a bathroom designed to accommodate an entire small football team is being operated like a maximum-security isolation chamber. The only upside is that the bathroom is exceptionally clean because apparently nobody is ever allowed to use it. This leads naturally into a discussion about Wallace, Idaho, travel, how far away everything feels when you actually have to drive there, and Peaches' recent adventures in Los Angeles. Peaches explains that LA traffic is so catastrophically awful that a five-mile trip to Chinatown took around forty minutes, which naturally becomes an advertisement for Waymo. According to Peaches, the autonomous Jaguar simply takes off and navigates the insanity while humans sit inside like passengers on a tiny futuristic death chariot. And naturally, no conversation about Waymo can survive on this program without somebody bringing up the alleged discovery of human feces in the back seat. Viktor points out that people have to clean these autonomous vehicles and jokes that he might as well use the Waymo as a mobile bathroom. At this point, the episode officially establishes that there is apparently no transportation technology on Earth that Viktor cannot turn into a discussion about defecation. The call-in segment then introduces Vinca, who calls to establish histor...

    #0420 - I Am Begging HBO Not To Game Of Thrones The Last Of Us - 09/08/2026
  4. Sep 4

    #0419 - I Went To A Toy Store And Nearly Declared War On A Family Learning Math - 09/04/2026

    The Friday edition of The Viktor Wilt Show begins with Viktor operating on what can only be described as a legally questionable quantity of sleep, staring directly into the abyss of a three-day Labor Day weekend and deciding that his grand master plan is to disappear from society, lock himself in his room, watch television, take naps, and attempt to emerge on Tuesday feeling like an entirely different human being. After a ridiculously busy Thursday involving a monster truck tour stop, fair food judging, and approximately seventeen million unnecessary trips back and forth, Viktor is ready to become a human blanket burrito. But this weekend comes with one major personal mission: no booze. Viktor openly admits that getting off the sauce is a struggle, but he's determined to make this attempt stick, envisioning a beautiful holiday weekend consisting of isolation, television, sleep, and absolutely nothing that requires him to interact with civilization. Meanwhile, he reminds everyone heading out camping, traveling, riding motorcycles, or generally wandering into the Idaho wilderness to please exercise some basic survival instincts because Labor Day weekend apparently has a special talent for turning normal people into roadside statistics. Then comes the first great intellectual catastrophe of the morning: Viktor discovers that he has accidentally joined a fantasy football league because he fundamentally misunderstood what Peach was asking him to join. Having previously participated in a March Madness bracket where he essentially selected teams based on numbers while possessing virtually zero knowledge about college basketball, Viktor apparently assumed this was another opportunity to randomly click things and somehow nearly win through sheer statistical stupidity. Instead, he discovers that he has voluntarily entered the terrifying world of fantasy football, where there is apparently a draft, accounts, setup, players, and responsibilities. His draft is tomorrow. He has no idea what he's doing. The people who were supposed to help him may already be mentally on vacation. And his greatest concern isn't even football — it's whether he'll remember to log into the fantasy football system at all after spending the weekend hiding in his bedroom. Somewhere in the background, his brand-new camera is sitting neglected because Viktor has so many things he wants to learn and do that even his hobbies are beginning to form a backlog. Just when Viktor is mentally preparing to survive the remaining hours of the workday, it's time to cue the outrage, and the morning's first major target is GTA 6. With Grand Theft Auto 6's fictional Vice City heavily based on Miami, Viktor dives headfirst into the controversy surrounding Miami officials being unhappy about the possibility of the city teaming up with the game for promotional purposes. The idea of welcoming visitors with Vice City branding, buses wrapped in GTA-themed advertisements, and other promotional stunts apparently doesn't sit well with the Miami Sheriff, who doesn't exactly love the idea of promoting a fictionalized version of the community where crime and violence are the primary exports. Viktor, however, thinks this is completely ridiculous. In his mind, GTA 6 could actually be a massive tourism advertisement for Miami, much like his own experience visiting Los Angeles and recognizing locations from GTA 5. If a video game can make you want to visit Santa Monica Pier because you've virtually driven around the place approximately nine billion times, then maybe fictional crime tourism is actually just tourism with extra explosions. The GTA 6 outrage machine continues as Viktor points out that people seem determined to find reasons to be offended by the game before it has even arrived. He argues that violent video games aren't simply magical machines that transform ordinary citizens into axe-wielding lunatics, and he mocks the notion that people are going to finish playing GTA 6 and immediately decide they need to recreate Vice City in real life. Then comes another alleged internet controversy involving the game's dating elements and fictional digital girlfriends, leading Viktor to question whether some people have genuinely decided that their significant others shouldn't be allowed to interact with fictional women in video games. The logic apparently being that if your partner is allowed to watch a movie containing romance, presumably they can survive a digital relationship occurring somewhere inside GTA 6. Viktor's only legitimate outrage is much simpler: it isn't quitting time yet. As far as he's concerned, November 19th cannot arrive quickly enough. The episode then takes a hard left into music as Viktor prepares to play the entire new Showing Teeth release, A Fate Worse Than Loneliness. After previously interviewing the band, Viktor had promised to play the complete seven-track release on the morning show, and thankfully the band supplied clean versions so the entire thing could be aired without detonating the FCC. Viktor gushes about the band as one of the best new groups he's heard in a long time and encourages listeners to seek out the EP, buy some merch, and check out the interview. For anyone listening to the on-demand version who missed the full musical takeover, Viktor basically issues a homework assignment: finish the podcast and then go listen to Showing Teeth. The man may be broke, but spiritually he is ready to purchase approximately seventeen Showing Teeth shirts. And then, because apparently the universe has decided that a normal morning would be too merciful, Viktor moves into freak news territory. First, there's the extraordinary case of a mystery animal in New Hampshire attacking three people before disappearing into the wilderness like some kind of cryptid with a criminal record. Nobody can quite identify the creature from the available image, with a fox being floated as a possibility, although Viktor is clearly not convinced that the mystery blob resembles anything remotely recognizable. The situation becomes even more delightful when the conversation turns to rabies treatment and the realization that maybe going outside is simply a terrible idea. Then the wilderness decides to escalate again with mountain goats, because apparently these seemingly innocent horned lawn ornaments are fully capable of killing hikers. Viktor's takeaway is beautifully simple: don't mess with animals. The woods are apparently now a legally designated boss arena. There's also an absolutely bizarre detour into Amarillo, Texas, where a man was arrested by the FBI after allegedly threatening people associated with a fashion show. Viktor can't understand what could possibly have caused someone to develop such an intense hatred of a fashion event that it would result in threats of violence, especially because the details don't explain what kind of fashion show it even was. Naturally, Viktor starts speculating that perhaps the man was simply a passionate thrifter who finally snapped after seeing something particularly offensive on a runway. The morning's criminal-news department therefore remains completely incapable of explaining itself. After that, Viktor recounts a visit to the Museum of Idaho with Becca and her daughter, where they checked out the Life Before Dinosaurs exhibit and watched small children experience the full psychological terror of encountering animatronic dinosaurs for the first time. The museum visit turns into something considerably more serious when Viktor discusses an exhibit about controversial aspects of Idaho history, including material connected to the Aryan Nation's presence in northern Idaho and other difficult historical subjects. What really aggravates him, however, is seeing portions of another exhibit vandalized because someone apparently didn't li...

    #0419 - I Went To A Toy Store And Nearly Declared War On A Family Learning Math - 09/04/2026
  5. Sep 4 ·  Bonus

    Traffic School - 680 Pounds Of Beer Cans Somehow Made $20 - 09/04/2026

    This edition of Traffic School begins exactly where any responsible public-safety program should begin: with an extended investigation into the collapse of Kmart, the inflation-adjusted price of Little Caesars Hot-N-Ready pizza, the horrifying financial implications of diesel fuel, and the realization that a roll of Reynolds Wrap now costs enough money that aluminum foil has apparently become a precious metal. Lieutenant Crane is hanging out with Viktor, and the two immediately spiral into the economics of modern America, where a weekend road trip is now apparently a luxury reserved for oil sheiks and people who have discovered an abandoned refinery. Diesel prices have Viktor declaring that he is staying home, while Crane reveals his foolproof entrepreneurial strategy of drinking beer, crushing the cans, and selling the aluminum to finance more beer. This naturally evolves into Viktor discussing his attempt to stay off booze for the weekend, Crane suggesting that Viktor should simply move in with him and spend months becoming sober under police supervision, and Viktor proposing the much more reasonable strategy of hiding in his house with his cats, watching movies, drinking Mountain Dew, and refusing to encounter civilization.  Once Traffic School officially begins, the show immediately becomes a public-service announcement wrapped inside a fever dream. With a holiday weekend approaching, listeners are encouraged to delay their departure long enough to call the program, because apparently camping spots will still exist several minutes later. The aluminum-can economy returns, complete with Crane's story about collecting 680 pounds of beer cans only to receive approximately $20.18 for his heroic labor, proving once and for all that capitalism has found a way to make physically transporting a small aluminum mountain somehow less profitable than simply leaving it in the garage. Then comes the first genuinely important warning of the episode: if you're planning on getting wild at a campground, remember that there may be cops camping nearby. They may not be wearing uniforms. They may be sitting in campers. They may be watching. The woods are no longer safe. The campground has become surveillance state: recreational edition.  The first major traffic question concerns the subject that appears to have personally offended an entire generation of Idaho drivers: roundabouts. A listener asks how to properly navigate one, and Viktor essentially reduces the entire engineering achievement to, “Look left, and if it's clear, go,” while Crane dreams of creating a video in which Viktor is physically trapped inside a vehicle while Crane attacks a roundabout with enough enthusiasm to pin Viktor's face against the passenger window. The conversation then wanders into Idaho Falls road construction, a mysterious new South Boulevard roundabout, traffic studies, expanding roads, destroying everything standing beside them, and the general frustration of attempting to navigate a growing city without spontaneously developing a nervous twitch. The educational portion eventually establishes that drivers should use turn signals when appropriate, particularly when changing lanes or indicating their intentions, because the other people on the road may be spectacularly incapable of reading minds.  Then the phones start ringing, and everything goes completely off the rails. One caller launches into an extremely enthusiastic complaint about an employee repeatedly arriving at work with beer cans falling out of her vehicle. Unfortunately, the caller deploys language that is far too spicy for terrestrial radio, forcing Viktor to frantically search for the dump button while apparently experiencing a near-fatal cardiac event. Crane jokes about needing to dispatch 911 because Viktor's heart has apparently stopped working, and the conversation becomes an accidental demonstration of why radio stations have emergency profanity buttons in the first place. The caller's daughter is also dragged into the situation, the dump button becomes a recurring character, and everyone seems increasingly concerned that the button has stopped lighting up. Meanwhile, Tractor Jeremy and Crazy Carl enter the picture, with the phone being passed around like a cursed artifact at a family reunion.  Crazy Carl then delivers a photograph of Tractor Jeremy's tractor being pulled over by Bingham County law enforcement, although apparently this particular encounter occurred while they were doing something charitable. Crane grudgingly acknowledges that there are, in fact, some good cops, before Carl begins apologizing for the mysterious “Rexburg thing” from the previous week. Nobody can quite remember what the Rexburg thing was, Carl's medication apparently had not kicked in, and Viktor openly admits that conversations with Carl tend to evaporate from his brain the moment the call ends. Yet somehow, despite this, a future visit to the station is arranged, complete with shirts, prizes, gift cards, Peaches, and a firm request that nobody bring handcuffs. The whole sequence feels less like Traffic School and more like a loosely organized traveling circus that accidentally obtained a broadcast license.  The educational segment resumes with a series of increasingly ridiculous questions, beginning with roundabout turn signals and escalating into Viktor's personal Star Wars-and-beer viewing habits. Crane wonders how Viktor has time to watch movies when he apparently spends half his existence in the bathroom, prompting Viktor to defend himself with the claim that he simply has a very large bladder and a conveniently located bathroom. From there, the show gets serious about holiday travel safety: check your tire pressure, inspect your tire tread, check antifreeze and oil, give your vehicle an overall once-over, and most importantly, put the phone down while driving. Grease Monkey receives a shout-out for vehicle service and its apparently dangerous supply of fresh-baked cookies, which Viktor claims he was only able to consume ten of before his vehicle was ready.  The show then addresses one of humanity's most pressing traffic questions: Is it legal to bumper-push someone who refuses to move when the light turns green? The answer is essentially “please don't,” despite Viktor's initial wisecrack that it isn't illegal if nobody is watching. Crane explains that deliberately pushing another vehicle can create liability for following too closely and potentially cause damage, which Viktor has personally discovered through the extremely scientific research method of using his truck to push his daughter's disabled vehicle into a sloped parking lot. The conversation then mutates into an absolutely insane driver's-ed story about Crane's younger days, when an instructor allegedly explained that the purpose of old metal bumpers was to let people gently bump neighboring vehicles while parallel parking. Teenage boys, naturally, interpreted this as divine permission to repeatedly ram cars and apparently discovered that “bumpers are for bumping” is not actually a legally defensible driving philosophy.  Next up: Why are freeway on-ramps so ridiculously long? The answer, thankfully, is not simply “to irritate Viktor,” even though that remains the unofficial emotional explanation. Crane explains that on-ramps provide space for drivers to accelerate to highway speed and merge without disrupting traffic, while off-ramps provide room to slow down. The important takeaway is that the accelerator pedal exists for a reason, and drivers should actually use it when merging rather than crawling toward the interst...

    Traffic School - 680 Pounds Of Beer Cans Somehow Made $20 - 09/04/2026
  6. Sep 2

    #0418 - Naked In Rexburg, Pooping In Waymos, And Getting Attacked By River Otters - 09/02/2026

    Wednesday begins with Victor Wilt already fighting for his life after a night of nightmares, repeatedly waking up, sleeping weird, waking up with his neck completely kinked, and then discovering that coffee—the magical brown liquid that is supposed to make everything better—has instead decided to launch another assault on his digestive system through the medium of acid reflux. Somehow, he still has to survive the longest Wednesday in human history, largely because a three-day weekend is approaching and apparently the closer you get to a holiday, the slower time moves. From there, the show immediately descends into the eternal question: Would you permanently quit your job if somebody handed you $2 million and told you that you were never allowed to work again? Victor considers the possibilities of investing it, living off the growth, escaping the alarm clock, and becoming the kind of person whose biggest workplace responsibility is remembering where they left their sunglasses. The conversation becomes even more ridiculous when somebody suggests politicians should be forced to retire at 60, which honestly sounds like the beginning of either a constitutional amendment or the greatest reality show ever produced. Then Stuart drops an absolute biological war crime into the studio: a Facebook Marketplace listing for a used “Fortnite Battle Bucket.” Imagine a folding chair mounted over a bucket with a hose positioned in such a way that a dedicated gamer can apparently answer nature's call without ever abandoning the battlefield. The seller claims it was used almost every day for years and is asking $500 for this throne of gamer despair. Victor attempts to determine whether the thing is real, whether it is some kind of joke, and whether humanity has finally reached the point where people would rather construct a sewage system beneath their gaming chair than pause Fortnite for approximately 45 seconds. The answer appears to be yes. The discussion somehow mutates into Skibidi Toilet territory before everyone collectively decides that perhaps the human race needs to step outside and look at a tree. Victor then announces that he is about to get political, but promises to attack both sides equally, and proceeds to question the usefulness of politicians spending time voting on a resolution condemning socialism. His argument, essentially, is that condemning something doesn't actually fix anything. Water filtration? Useful. Infrastructure? Useful. Solving an actual problem? Fantastic. A bunch of politicians pressing buttons one after another to announce whether they personally approve of socialism? Apparently the legislative equivalent of making a Facebook poll asking whether people like Sleep Token. And then, because the universe has decided politics isn't disgusting enough, the show moves directly into animals attacking humans. The featured nightmare creature is the river otter, an animal most people instinctively categorize alongside adorable zoo animals and wholesome little aquatic mascots. Victor would like to officially revoke that classification. He discusses the terrifying story of a Nevada woman swimming in Lake Tahoe who was attacked by an otter that grabbed her leg, pulled her underwater, and repeatedly bit her. The woman reportedly suffered injuries requiring 38 stitches and had to undergo rabies treatment, a tetanus shot, and antibiotics. Even after she escaped toward shore, the otter reportedly followed her and circled nearby while breathing heavily. Suddenly every cute otter video on the internet feels like recruitment propaganda for an aquatic gang. Victor's warning is simple: maybe don't casually jump into natural bodies of water assuming the wildlife has signed a peace treaty with humanity. The freak-news department continues with a Walmart evacuation in the Philadelphia area after a hazmat situation reportedly sent 19 people to the hospital with coughing and chest irritation. Naturally, this somehow becomes an opportunity to blame Jade's hypothetical farts for the incident. Then comes Crooked Jess, a Florida woman allegedly entrusted with $60 by an undercover officer to purchase crack cocaine who apparently decided that the best possible use of the money was simply disappearing with it. Months later, police caught up with her, and the legend of Crooked Jess was born. The episode then veers into Las Vegas Sphere territory, where people who already spent a fortune watching The Wizard of Oz are informed that the experience is being upgraded with enhanced flying monkeys, pyrotechnics, Glinda Glitter, and scented apples. Victor experiences a familiar form of technological buyer's remorse, remembering how he bought an Axe-Fx II XL+ only for the Axe-Fx III to show up approximately a month later and destroy the value of his purchase. The internet then produces another modern nightmare: a creepy Cat in the Hat social-media trend involving disturbing imagery, nighttime appearances, AI-generated content, and, in some cases, references to schools and threatening language. Victor attempts to understand exactly what makes the trend so terrifying while simultaneously wondering if everyone has collectively forgotten what Halloween costumes look like. This leads to memories of the infamous creepy-clown phenomenon and the possibility that the whole thing is just some elaborate viral marketing campaign. Nobody really knows, but apparently if your child suddenly starts talking about the Cat in the Hat, you should at least investigate before he starts standing outside your house at 3 a.m. wearing a giant striped hat. Then the show enters its Loser's Night Out Era, resurrecting a bizarre promotion from 1998 involving single guys, a barely functional jalopy, dollar movies, McDonald's, and Valentine's Day. Because the Eastern Idaho State Fair has left the station with an odd number of tickets, Victor and the crew decide that somebody needs to experience the ultimate humiliation: attending the fair alone. One lucky “loser” receives a ticket to the bull riding championships and another ticket to Flow Rider, meaning this individual can spend two nights at the fair wandering around alone, potentially finding a new friend or simply becoming one with the fairground asphalt. Doug wins, and the studio celebrates him while simultaneously reminding him that, technically, he is a loser. Victor's day then becomes even more surreal when he experiences what he believes is an ocular migraine, describing shimmering disturbances in his vision. A caller named Jeff phones in with a terrifying story about his wife experiencing a similar episode while driving on an I-15 off-ramp, suddenly announcing that she couldn't see and forcing him to take control from the passenger seat. Victor briefly considers whether his brain is exploding, then decides he will probably survive and immediately contemplates drinking more coffee. Because apparently the solution to a neurological visual disturbance is to throw additional coffee into the bloodstream and see what happens. The poop chronicles arrive next. In Tulsa, police reportedly arrested a man accused of repeatedly defecating outside businesses and exposing himself. Meanwhile, Victor discusses reports of people behaving similarly inside driverless Waymo vehicles, leaving the employees who clean the autonomous cars to deal with the consequences. The future has arrived, and apparently the future smells terrible. Humanity invented self-driving taxis and immediately decided to turn them into mobile bathrooms. The show then takes a brief journey into the future, asking what is highly likely to happen within the next decade that almost nobody is preparing for. AI-generated fake au...

    #0418 - Naked In Rexburg, Pooping In Waymos, And Getting Attacked By River Otters - 09/02/2026
  7. Sep 1

    #0417 - A Meth McMuffin, A Butt Sniffer, And A Supervolcano - 09/01/2026

    This episode begins with Viktor Wilt waking up in the spiritual condition of a Victorian child who has just been informed that electricity has been invented, except instead of tuberculosis he has acid reflux from coffee. It is Tuesday, he didn't sleep enough, his guts have apparently declared war on civilization, and Peaches has provided the studio with the emergency medical technology known as a little tub of Tums. Viktor's grand plan for solving his sleep deprivation is essentially to knock himself unconscious at 9 p.m. and try life again, while his dream for the upcoming holiday weekend is to disappear into a dark room, turn off the lights, watch television, and have absolutely no interaction with humanity. Unfortunately, he is still required to work, give away approximately seventeen million concert, fair, and monster truck tickets, and somehow produce a radio show despite his brain operating somewhere between "low battery" and "please restart Windows."  Things get even more ridiculous when Viktor discovers that Josh is going to be late, which immediately inspires the deeply professional workplace question: "How can I also sleep in?" Viktor briefly considers taking a secret nap on the break-room couch, only to remember that the building is covered in cameras and that management might have some questions about why an employee apparently spent an hour unconscious beside the vending machines. From there, he wanders into the internet looking for something to discuss and discovers that the modern news cycle is basically a flaming landfill of political arguments, Facebook essays, and people writing doctoral dissertations about gas prices. Then comes the realization that the studio is approximately the temperature of a freshly opened volcano, Viktor needs more water, maybe some medication for his stomach, and absolutely needs to stop talking long enough to find actual content.  Then the show enters the Grand Theft Auto 6 Relationship Wars, which is somehow a real thing people are apparently arguing about. Viktor discusses online rage-bait surrounding GTA 6, specifically claims that some women are supposedly upset because their significant others will be able to interact romantically with female characters in the game. Meanwhile, other people apparently believe that including a woman in the game has transformed GTA into some kind of woke feminist simulator. Viktor's basic response to both camps is: please remember that these are fictional people inside a video game. The discussion spirals through dating mechanics, antagonizing NPCs, texting characters, The Sims, fictional girlfriends, and the possibility that somebody's relationship is apparently threatened by a polygonal woman who lives inside a PlayStation. The episode effectively establishes that humanity has reached a point where we may need international peace negotiations over imaginary video-game girlfriends.  Next, Viktor tackles the phenomenon of Yellowstone creating an army of fake cowboys. He reads a story about a man's father buying land in Texas, surrounding himself with trucks, cars, guns, and Yellowstone on television, and apparently deciding that he is John Dutton. The father's masculinity standards are apparently being judged against characters like Rip Wheeler, which leads Viktor to point out the extremely important fact that Rip is not exactly a role model for healthy human behavior. John Dutton isn't exactly winning Father of the Year either. The whole thing becomes a magnificent examination of what happens when somebody watches enough television about ranches, guns, murder, family feuds, and men glaring intensely into the middle distance and concludes, "Yes. This is how I should live."  Then we plunge directly into the criminal underworld, where apparently someone in Australia decided that the ideal place to hide methamphetamine was inside a McMuffin. Viktor describes the discovery of approximately 3.5 grams of meth hidden in the breakfast sandwich and immediately arrives at the obvious conclusion: if police see you walking into a house they're watching and then walking back out carrying a McMuffin that smells like chemicals, perhaps the breakfast burrito isn't going to successfully camouflage your narcotics operation. The episode then moves to San Francisco, where Viktor sarcastically mourns the plight of wealthy people who supposedly can't find enough mansions because AI-generated wealth is shaking up the luxury housing market. A starter home costing around two million dollars becomes the punchline to the larger nightmare of San Francisco real estate.  And because apparently the universe wasn't already sufficiently stupid, Viktor moves into airport grenade jokes, warning listeners that joking about explosives at airport security is not going to produce the sitcom reaction they're imagining. A man in Florida apparently made a joke about having a grenade, prompting police, dogs, and an extremely unnecessary disruption to everyone else's travel plans. From there, the episode takes a hard left into the saga of the serial butt sniffer, a recurring character from the program's apparently ever-expanding encyclopedia of bizarre criminals. This individual has allegedly been arrested before for wandering around and sniffing people's behinds and, because apparently one arrest wasn't enough to teach the lesson, was arrested again. At this point, Viktor's only remaining question is what kind of intervention could possibly convince a grown adult to stop treating strangers like particularly interesting dogs at PetSmart.  The rock-and-metal portion of the episode briefly restores civilization as Viktor checks in on Kim Dracula, discovering a bizarre Las Vegas event involving Kim Dracula, Haunted, and Chris Angel. This leads to an unexpected appreciation of Penn & Teller, including Viktor's story about meeting the duo after their show and the delightful revelation that if you want to hear Teller actually talk, you can apparently go meet him afterward. Unfortunately, Kim Dracula isn't exactly rolling through East Idaho, so the much more attainable musical salvation comes in the form of Sevendust and Theory of a Deadman tickets, which Viktor is giving away through the station. The competition is essentially: listen for back-to-back songs, become caller number 20, and possibly enter the drawing for Theory of a Deadman meet-and-greets. Meanwhile, Peaches is absent, leaving Viktor to become a one-man ticket-distribution factory.  Then the episode suddenly decides that everybody should think about the end of civilization. Viktor launches into supervolcanoes, Yellowstone, catastrophic eruptions, global food supplies, supply-chain collapse, volcanic winters, and the horrifying possibility of a massive eruption blocking sunlight and turning agriculture into a historical footnote. He discusses claims about roughly twenty supervolcanoes around the world and the terrifying scale of past eruptions, including the massive Tonga eruption. Then Stephen Hawking gets dragged into the apocalypse conversation because apparently a Tuesday morning radio show about acid reflux, meth sandwiches, and butt sniffers wasn't sufficiently existential. The result is a brief philosophical detour into humanity's potential expiration date, after which Viktor essentially arrives at the only reasonable strategy: don't think about it too much and put your head in the sand.  The show then becomes weirdly personal when Viktor discusses seeing people he remembers from school appearing in local news stories. He ...

    #0417 - A Meth McMuffin, A Butt Sniffer, And A Supervolcano - 09/01/2026
  8. Aug 31

    #0416 - A Bat Tried To Crawl Into Her Mouth - 08/31/2026

    Monday begins with Viktor Wilt staring directly into the abyss of another workweek and discovering that the abyss apparently has a three-day weekend coming up. After spending Saturday at the Idaho Falls Farmers Market collecting donations for the Idaho Food Bank and handing out tickets to the zoo and Museum of Idaho, Viktor somehow makes it through customer appreciation night with the legendary Stiff Richard crew before arriving at the horrifying realization that Sunday evening exists primarily to remind working adults that Monday is coming to kill their happiness. With Peaches out for the week, Viktor briefly entertains the possibility that he might actually accomplish things without someone constantly informing him about every email in existence, but instead immediately starts thinking about video games, bills, chores, cleaning his garage, and the crushing inevitability of adulthood. The morning's first philosophical crisis arrives via the question: if you woke up in the body of the last video game character you played, how screwed would your life be? Viktor was last playing Red Dead Redemption 2 as John Marston, which means his hypothetical new existence involves approximately zero modern plumbing, an aggressively high probability of getting shot, and absolutely no chance of quietly enjoying a three-day weekend. Other people volunteer their doomed gaming incarnations, including characters from Factorio, Stray, Baldur's Gate 3, The Last of Us, and Luigi, proving once again that apparently humanity's preferred Monday morning activity is imagining itself being murdered in fictional universes. The episode then takes a hard left into UFO territory, because apparently a blurry object in a photograph of the moon is now being presented as “100% proof” of alien life. Viktor examines the alleged evidence and reaches the extremely scientific conclusion of: absolutely not impressed. The photograph contains a mysterious shape in the background, but there is no spacecraft, no little green extraterrestrial waving at the camera, no alien birth certificate, and certainly no glorious 4K footage of the moon being invaded by space people. Viktor wonders why the government's UFO file releases have been so spectacularly boring and suggests that perhaps the truly interesting material will emerge closer to election season, because apparently even extraterrestrials have to compete with political distraction cycles. Before long, the program plunges into an international parade of theft, stupidity, and frozen poultry. Someone steals an entire beer truck containing roughly 50,000 cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon, prompting PBR to essentially beg the thieves to bring their giant rolling beer vault back and promising not to ask questions. Then things escalate dramatically in Cairo, where an armed gang allegedly performs a highway robbery worthy of the world's most deranged action movie by pulling a pickup truck behind a moving refrigerated truck, climbing onto it, getting into the trailer, and stealing approximately 300 pounds of frozen chicken. The robbery ultimately ends with three alleged gang members dead and three arrested, all apparently because somebody looked at a truck full of chicken and decided this was the hill upon which to build their criminal empire. Then comes one of the episode's most horrifying wake-up calls: a woman wakes up believing she is having a nightmare involving something fuzzy crawling into her mouth, only to discover that the nightmare is actually a bat attempting to do exactly that. She manages to trap the bat and seeks medical advice, where she is told that waking up in a room with a bat can mean potential rabies exposure because bat bites can be so small they go unnoticed. Suddenly Viktor's own achy Monday morning feels significantly less terrible. At least he woke up tired and sore instead of waking up to discover a winged mammal had apparently chosen his oral cavity as an emergency landing zone. The program continues its tour through the bizarre with scientists allegedly developing a process for turning PET plastic and agricultural waste into protein-rich, vanilla-flavored food components. The process reportedly involves 32 steps and microorganisms breaking down the materials before they can be transformed into something edible. Viktor's response is essentially the same as anyone who has watched a dystopian science-fiction movie: sure, maybe humanity has technically solved a problem, but do we really want to eat cookies made from the conceptual corpse of a water bottle? The possibility that this technology might someday help deal with the Pacific Garbage Patch is acknowledged, but there remains a very important unanswered question: at what point did recycling become dessert? The weird-news conveyor belt then produces a supposed Bigfoot sighting in New York, complete with photographs that initially appear to show a mysterious creature but, after closer examination, seem to show something far less cryptozoological: an elderly, apparently overweight man skinny-dipping in natural water. Viktor is not convinced that Bigfoot has suddenly evolved into a pale, hairless gentleman taking an aquatic afternoon break. The episode then moves to northern Italy, where tourists were apparently duped into visiting a fake ancient Greek-style amphitheater that had been constructed from scratch and presented as an authentic historical site. Even more astonishingly, the fake attraction accumulated glowing five-star reviews from tourists who apparently emerged from the fabricated archaeological experience convinced they had witnessed one of the coolest places on Earth. Viktor cannot quite understand the scale of the outrage surrounding the scheme, particularly compared with the other catastrophes currently happening on Earth, but he does admit that the whole thing sounds weirdly impressive. Somewhere, an Italian man has apparently discovered that if you build a fake ancient monument, add enough fake history, and convince people to walk through a giant metal door, there is a non-zero chance they will give you five stars on TripAdvisor. The show's descent into human stupidity continues with a Florida pastor who allegedly got into an argument with an elderly man over parenting and responded to the disagreement by launching an elbow directly into the man's face. Viktor points out the obvious theological contradiction between being a pastor and apparently deciding that “turn the other cheek” means “hit the other guy's cheek with your elbow.” The situation is especially troubling because the victim was over 65 and the resulting charge involved battery against an elderly person. Viktor emphasizes that physical fights can have catastrophic consequences, even when they begin as seemingly stupid arguments, and the episode's unofficial safety message becomes increasingly clear: sometimes the smartest thing you can do is simply walk away and let somebody else be wrong. The human body is not a video game health bar, and an argument about parenting is certainly not worth potentially killing someone over. Then the show reaches the medical portion of the morning, where a man dealing with urinary incontinence apparently decided that professional medical treatment was too mainstream and attempted to solve the problem himself using super glue. This decision goes about as well as you would expect. His homemade “repair” allegedly resulted in a solid, rod-shaped mass of hardened glue that doctors later had to remove, followed by weeks of healing. Viktor is horrified but also baffled by the broader phenomenon of people inserting bizarre objects into their bodies, noting that medical professionals apparently encounter everything from wires and tweezers to pencils and fish hooks. The moral is brutally simple: if something is wrong with your body, perhaps consult someone whose job description include...

    #0416 - A Bat Tried To Crawl Into Her Mouth - 08/31/2026

Ratings & Reviews

5
out of 5
6 Ratings

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The Viktor Wilt Show daily recap! If you miss the show weekdays from 6A-10A MST, you've come to the right place.