Stranger Things Finale, AI Women, getting agents, new tattoos, and more! Throw on that corduroy and get cozy with us! THE EPISODE In this episode, the boys regroup after a great stand up show with precious guest Dom LaMarca, Andrew cooks Jack dinner, Brendan wants a new tattoo and is jealous of Jack’s hoodie, and Jack has a hot take on the Stranger Things finale. THE PODCAST The Corduroy Boys Podcast is a cozy comedy podcast, hosted by stand-up comedians Jack Adam, Andrew Bergen, and Brendan Ryan. Just good vibes, games, stories, and fun riffs. New episodes every Tuesday! SUBMIT Send in stories: corduroyboyspod@gmail.com FOLLOW The Show: @corduroyboyspod Jack: @jackadamcomedy Andrew: @andrewbergen Brendan: @brendanryanisfun The Studio: @thecleaners.ny Check out art by @steve.camillone PATREON patreon.com/corduroyboys Join the Patreon to watch content from our time at the Vermont Comedy Festival plus other bonus content and past projects from Jack and Brendan. THE STUDIO The Cleaners is a new art gallery and studio located in Merrick, New York. If you are interested in production services for your podcast or social media, email Jack at jackadamcomedy@gmail.com. GEESE MATING At the edge of a quiet pond, where the water holds the sky like a secret it has promised not to tell, the geese begin their courtship long before anything truly intimate occurs. It starts with recognition. They find each other again, year after year, as if pulled together by an invisible thread woven in a previous life. The gander glides closer, his posture proud but unhurried, neck arched in a gentle question rather than a demand. The goose answers with stillness, with presence, with the simple act of remaining. Their romance is ceremonial. They circle one another on the water, tracing slow ellipses that ripple outward, disturbing the reflections of reeds and clouds. Soft murmurs pass between them, low, breathy calls not meant for the rest of the world. He dips his head; she mirrors the gesture. This mutual bowing is not submission but agreement. When the moment comes, it is not sudden. He positions himself beside her, careful, attentive, as though aware that trust is the true threshold. There is closeness, bodies aligned, feathers brushing with the faint whisper of silk. The act itself is brief, restrained by nature, but wrapped in tenderness. He steadies himself with his wings; she accepts him without flinching. There is no urgency… only inevitability. Afterward, they remain together on the water, drifting as one shape instead of two. He keeps close, watchful, as if guarding not only her but the promise just made. She preens a feather along her side, calm and untroubled, already turned toward the future. What makes it feel like romance is not the mechanics, which are simple, but the devotion surrounding them. Geese do not fall in love loudly. They choose, and they stay. Their mating is less a conquest than a vow, renewed each season, written not in words, but in proximity, patience, and the quiet certainty of returning to the same shore together.
