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JulyDiaz

Episode 211 — Depresskimos

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Bob begins burning off the fumes of dealing with family over the holidays as he makes an important announcement about the future of the show and shares the types of and reasons for suicide as classified in the Bob Ducca Statistical Manual for Mental Conditions. Plus, Bob leaves us with a poem inspired by being unable to attend the Orthopedic Sock Hop.

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Reasons for suicide:

Woman at Starbucks spelled my name Luck instead of Luke.

I did not fully agree with the recent casting announcements for an upcoming comic book movie.

 

A stray cat gave me a look I didn't appreciate.

 

Bob Ducca announced a break from his show.

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Reasons for suicide: No more Affirmation Nations for a while :(

 

I really love this podcast and I'm a big fan of Seth Morris. Hopefully Ducca comes back soon!

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I hope this means that Seth has been cast in a new TV show or something else good.

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no hard feelings Mr. Ducca, I just have extreme abandonment issues... between the Fogelnest Files' ongoing "hiatus", Topics disappearing with no warning for three weeks (and counting) and the erratic frequency of HDTGM episodes, I've been a complete mess lately.

 

whelp... looks like I'm going to seek out a medically induced coma as well.

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So great to hear a return to true Ducca form - lists of ailments, names of people, and a poem. The guests have been fun but I'll take a fifteen minute episode with just Bob any time.

 

DUCCA STRONG

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Damn I was really enjoying the expanded format too, Thanks for all the free entertainment Mr Ducca.

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I hope this means that Seth has been cast in a new TV show or something else good.

 

 

These episodes have to be basically written too.

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Dear Bob,

 

First, I just wanted to say how sorry I am that you've missed out on the sock hop again Bob :( It sounds like you were really looking forward to it, and it's always particularly enraging to miss an event due to an equipment failure. I definitely won't be buying any bamboo socks in the future! I remember in 2009 when I had to miss the Blind Psychic Fair when, due to a hot car mishap, the plastic lenses of my cheap coke bottle prop glasses warped into into a particularly effective angle, and fairgoers discovered I could see. I lost a lot of friends that day, and it continues to haunt me as a particularly large source of shame.

 

I wasn't comfortable with the term Depresskimos, and I'm thankful you've encouraged us to find our own identities. I hail from the north of America, where the winters are long and depressing. I like to call it Minne-so-low-self-esteem.

 

Suicide is often on my mind, and I appreciate the chance to talk about it. Recently on my mind is a rare medical condition I suffer from called Fornication Autoimmune Lethargy (AKA: FAIL), which prevents me from making sweet love or even finding a beloved. My own immune system has tragically gone to war with my genitals, rendering them overweight and inoperable. My scrotum resembles scabbed cantelopes inside of a pathetic skinned honey badger hide. To make things worse, my penis has swelled up to resemble the type of jumbo summer sausage you can only find at Sam's Club. Who would ever have me? Sigh...

 

On a positive note, I had a suicidal situation last weekend that took a self-affirming turn. I went to a large gathing of what I assumed was Gay(happy!) Lakeside Boat Tracks (GLBT), as I enjoy remote control boat regadas as much as you, Bob. A certain hip hop song came on, and I was told the African American gentleman who was singing was named Frank Ocean, and that he was in fact homosexual. Now, not knowing the parlance of our times, I may have used the "f" word to describe him when replying that all along I suspected this 80's singer of "Caribbean Queen" was in fact singing to a drag queen, and was in fact himself a "homosexual". Well, the crowd didn't take well to that. I was held down as members covered me in makeup, lipstick, wigs, fishnet stockings and...crotchless panties. I was then thrown into the trunk of a car, and eventually dropped off at a reintegration facility for released federal prisoners. Needless to say, what happened was not pretty. But I did catch a glimps of myself in the windows of the car as it sped away, and I gasped at the regal image looking back at me. I've now found a new appreciation for my body, and...for the first time...I felt...truly beautiful. It just goes to show that sometimes in life, if you hang in long enough, good things can happen.

 

I hope you read and are inspired by my heartwarming story, Bob. Enjoy your medically-induced coma for as long as you need, and please come back to us soon. We need you!

 

Yamaste (It's more positive than namaste)

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I'd rather die than have to spend time with myself.

 

My New Year's resolution is to be kinder to myself. But I'll probably blow it because I am such a loser.

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Bob,

After I heard the news about your hiatus, I found myself filling the emptiness with food. With my money, time and life going down the food hole, I've taken to dumpster diving/living, in the receptacle behind Cobb's bakery. A steady diet of day-old baked goods has left me with the following ailments:

 

Banana Breath

Pumpkin pie pink eye

Lady fingers

Yeast infection

Cinnamon buns

Wheat belly

Whole wheat belly

Jelly roll belly

I suffer from donut holes

Focaccia fucked up back

Frosting tongue

Rolling pin arms

Flour lung

And I'm hypoglycemic.

 

I could go on, but this library is notorious for fights over the internet kiosks. Better split.

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Reasons for suicide:

 

Lifelong fan of Thelma and Louise but cannot find self a "Thelma" or "Louise"; will drive into Grand Canyon alone.

 

Completed 500+ puzzle Master Sudoku book and am unable to take Sudoku Mastery any further.

 

Discovered my spirit animal was a Carolina Nighthawk, but am diagnosed an ornithophobe.

 

There is no footware corrective enough for my needs.

 

The wind seemed dismissive of me as I welcomed its cooling embrace.

 

Lifetime ban from Chili's.

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Dear Bob,

 

First, I just wanted to say how sorry I am that you've missed out on the sock hop again Bob :(/> It sounds like you were really looking forward to it, and it's always particularly enraging to miss an event due to an equipment failure. I definitely won't be buying any bamboo socks in the future! I remember in 2009 when I had to miss the Blind Psychic Fair when, due to a hot car mishap, the plastic lenses of my cheap coke bottle prop glasses warped into into a particularly effective angle, and fairgoers discovered I could see. I lost a lot of friends that day, and it continues to haunt me as a particularly large source of shame.

 

I wasn't comfortable with the term Depresskimos, and I'm thankful you've encouraged us to find our own identities. I hail from the north of America, where the winters are long and depressing. I like to call it Minne-so-low-self-esteem.

 

Suicide is often on my mind, and I appreciate the chance to talk about it. Recently on my mind is a rare medical condition I suffer from called Fornication Autoimmune Lethargy (AKA: FAIL), which prevents me from making sweet love or even finding a beloved. My own immune system has tragically gone to war with my genitals, rendering them overweight and inoperable. My scrotum resembles scabbed cantelopes inside of a pathetic skinned honey badger hide. To make things worse, my penis has swelled up to resemble the type of jumbo summer sausage you can only find at Sam's Club. Who would ever have me? Sigh...

 

On a positive note, I had a suicidal situation last weekend that took a self-affirming turn. I went to a large gathing of what I assumed was Gay(happy!) Lakeside Boat Tracks (GLBT), as I enjoy remote control boat regadas as much as you, Bob. A certain hip hop song came on, and I was told the African American gentleman who was singing was named Frank Ocean, and that he was in fact homosexual. Now, not knowing the parlance of our times, I may have used the "f" word to describe him when replying that all along I suspected this 80's singer of "Caribbean Queen" was in fact singing to a drag queen, and was in fact himself a "homosexual". Well, the crowd didn't take well to that. I was held down as members covered me in makeup, lipstick, wigs, fishnet stockings and...crotchless panties. I was then thrown into the trunk of a car, and eventually dropped off at a reintegration facility for released federal prisoners. Needless to say, what happened was not pretty. But I did catch a glimps of myself in the windows of the car as it sped away, and I gasped at the regal image looking back at me. I've now found a new appreciation for my body, and...for the first time...I felt...truly beautiful. It just goes to show that sometimes in life, if you hang in long enough, good things can happen.

 

I hope you read and are inspired by my heartwarming story, Bob. Enjoy your medically-induced coma for as long as you need, and please come back to us soon. We need you!

 

Yamaste (It's more positive than namaste)

 

It saddens me that this got no likes. It is a thing of beauty. Bravo. And bravo.

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Looks like the break won't be long. Seth says the show is coming back on 2/17.

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