I've been spending a lot of time looking at this wall lately.
Some of you might even recognize it. Peep Karen Hausman in the lower left corner. She's always so helpful.
These stickers aren't just randomly haphazardly placed on the wall, so don't worry about our paint job. We had the smart idea to affix them to cardboard and haphazardly place THAT on our walls.
OK, so this room is our podcast studio.
Ok, well it used it be. It's a literal shell of what it once was.
It used to house many mics, many boards, and, at one time, many beers. It's since been very dormant with blips of promise (What Are the Rules?) and then a steady old regular (TOTS with Ross), but now it's devoid of its former life.
There are no mics.
Definitely no beers.
The big table was wooshed away to be used in a low budget stuffie independent film.
All that's left are a couple of desks, some nonsense and a black box that gets opened maybe once a week. That black box is starting to represent something magical to me.
Ooh, I just realized I could do a total swerve here and make you think I'm talking about playing my trumpet, but this rain is giving me a headache so I can't be that clever right now.
So just pretend I did, okay?
Holy shit y'all. I just went outside to roll in the trash cans and that weather is sinister as FUCK. Damn.
Ok, but back to this black box. I get excited every time I open it.
It's the thing that's been connecting me to some of my favorite people and we're talking about (if we're being completely honest) my first true love.
Well, to be fair, I'm mostly listening because I never know when it's my turn to talk.