So there's a brand-new episode of Trappo's Chap House out there, and it might just be the beginning of something great. Well, maybe not great, but... perhaps good might be too strong a word. Mediocre? Sure, that works. This might just be the beginning of something mediocre. I sure hope I didn't build too much hype for this episode with the whole "mediocre" thing. Anyhoo, you might notice that our newest installment sounds considerably better than all previous episodes, despite my earlier promise that the quality of this stuff would never, ever improve. Now don't get scared, because things change. That's the only constant in life. And yes, things are changing around here, little by little. Future episodes of Trappo are going to sound better than the old stuff, and that's okay. We're going to get through this together. But don't freak out, because everything else is still the same. The technical quality of this episode is marginally improved, but the quality of the content remains the same as it ever was, so no worries, kiddies.
Our newest episode is also a pretty long, meandering affair that goes off on several tangents, but that's really nothing new, either. Our main concerns this time around are Tom Green's 2001 magnum opus Freddy Got Fingered and funny man Chris Elliott's notorious 1994 cult misfire Cabin Boy, but we also discuss 1989's Gene Wilder/Richard Pryor comedy See No Evil, Hear No Evil and its hidden wonders, the well-earned redemption of once and future pop songstress Rebecca Black a decade after "Friday" altered the course of musical history, and things wrap up with your hosts hatching a plan to trick legendary filmmaker/raconteur/weirdo John Waters into appearing on our "podcast". It's a whole heap of good old fashioned family fun, and I just know you're going to tolerate it, friends. You're gonna tolerate it so hard.
Chapter 45: The Christ Elliott/Tom Green Variety Half-Hour!
So that's it. There will be more to come, but that's later, not right now. Right now, I'm fucking done, and I'm tired, and I need to go to bed. I won't go to sleep, because sleep never comes easy. So I'll just lie in bed, in the dark, staring at the ceiling for a few hours until I eventually just lose consciousness and have boring, uneventful dreams that are increasingly difficult to discern from my boring, uneventful waking life.
STAY SPOOKY, MOTHERFUCKERS!
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