Episode 2304 – Kid AG and Wally get on the mics and yap about the resurgence of wild, untamed pubes spilling out of bikinis—old-school nasty is back, and they're equal parts horrified and "whatever, I'll deal if I'm down there." Wally drops a voicemail bomb from weeks ago where he was raging "don't trust these lying sacks of shit women," setting the stage for him to unleash the main event: he's balls-deep into his ex's bestie—a 110-pound soaking-wet blonde smoke show with killer t**s, blue eyes, and three years of dick drought until he wrecked her so hard she limped funny at Thanksgiving dinner. The saga starts with drunken late-night 4-8 hour phone marathons, guilt-fueled confessions to the ex (who melts down screaming about getting back together in 6-12 months—bitch, you cheated and went bonkers!), epic first f***s including finger-banging, manhandling her tiny frame, and Christmas day-drunk whipped-cream corn-out-of-the-a*****e fuckfests. Now she's pumping brakes hard because he's still technically ball and chained untill March, ghosting texts after he sends her a Sydney Sweeney doggy-costume cunty-rubbing clip ("you're driving me crazy"), and he's refusing the friend zone Kid shares parallel post-breakup wisdom—go 1-2 years single, f**k around, no ties. Wally explains his summer with Hat Trick (wanting more than he could give with kid schedules and rust-bucket truck life). They pivot to ex-drama concerns (mental illness, pre-menopause family curse, hiding shit from the show because "don't ever talk about me"), then rag on brainwashed politics, skyrocketing prices, currency collapse doom, ICE raids in Minnesota, Somalis/Mexicans and billionaire pedos. Surprise! They call G-Dub (now with fiber internet). Kid does his usual round of roasting trannies, retards making a comeback, face shootings, ICE puns, Trump stroke rumors, Virgin Islands oil jokes, 90 inches of snow, and Yogurt Yeti-inspired butthole toppings. They wrap up with blow-up doll regrets (no holes!), Eiffel tower pics, and promises to link up more. Classic Goin' Deep: sloppy hookups, ex meltdowns, racist riffs, and degenerate crew vibes. It's the usual nonsense. What the f**k else do you expect from these cards.
