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Episode 88 — Neil Campbell, Our Close Employee

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My lawyers will be in touch, Steven. Have a good fiscal year.

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My lawyers with be in touch, Steven. Have a good fiscal year.


Take it up with Sean and Hayes. Anything posted on this forum is legal property of Gojira Media Productions (a WolfCool company)

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Why is Matt Mira a successful comedy writer? He seems like a nice enough guy but doesn't seem very funny at all. Like, I don't even think he'd be the funny guy in your squad, maybe second overall and a good support player for bits.

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Why is Matt Mira a successful comedy writer? He seems like a nice enough guy but doesn't seem very funny at all. Like, I don't even think he'd be the funny guy in your squad, maybe second overall and a good support player for bits.


He grew up very close to where I grew up and we are around he same age and we both went to catholic school so what made his life so different to mine that he is on Nerdist pods and I am sitting in bed in bathrobe posting to the Wolf Cool forums?


I did some research on Wikipedia and apparently he moved to LA in 2007 which I think may have been the deciding factor. Maybe he had an in or something.

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Can someone summarize the last ten pages

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The color burst and escaped again; flashes of orange and red, searing his eyes, then settling into darkness. Exuberant, then suddenly, mysteriously reclusive, like Thomases both Yorke and Wiseau. Sean stool on the hill—“our hill,” he called it—like he always did: with a boyish look of wonder, doubt, and contemplation, as the sun died behind the hills. He wondered what he always wondered, doubted what he always doubted, and contemplated what he always contemplated, though this time—maybe it was the lights of the city below, twinkling as brightly as the stars above, or maybe it was Hayes’ eyes, which seemed more comely and accepting than ever, and which twinkled as brightly as the stars above and the city below and also Sean’s eyes, which were also twinkling—he decided to say it all out loud.

“Hey…Hayes, buddy?” Sean said with a quiet trepidation, like a child who had wandered into his parent’s room after a nightmare.

Hayes set down his notebook and flashlight-pen. He adjusted his glasses and looked up at Sean, adopting a warm smile the same way a parent might adopt a child, who was warm from being in Africa or Texas or something.

“What’s good in the hood, S-Town?” he said with that warm smile mentioned previously, and using the first letter of Sean’s first name (‘Sean’) and combining it with word town to form an affectionate yet cool nickname.

“I was just thinking…”

“You sure you weren’t wondering?” Hayes jested.

“That too. And doubting…and contemplating, actually.”

“Let’s come up with a word to combine all of those words, because we use them a lot.”

“What words do we say a lot?” said Sean, scratching his head in confusion like a puppy, only with hands instead of paws.

“Wondering, doubting and contemplating.”

“We say those words a lot? Wondering doubting and contemplating?”


We do? Not the narrator?”


“Oh, right. Well, how about Woubtemplating?”

“I was thinking ‘Condoubtering?’” said Hayes, who was the smart one because he wore glasses.

“I like it. Well you see, Hayes, I was…condoubtering…up here on our hill…where we are now, overlooking the city at night…”

“—The city of Los Angeles,” Hayes interjected.

“Mmm. Yes. I was condoubtering what you think it all means?”

“What what means?”

“You know…everything. Life. The universe. I mean,” he stood up, threw his hands up in frustration and started pacing underneath the enormous H he was standing beneath on the hill, “we’ve got these…these lizard brains, you know? These animal instincts. Which makes sense because we came from animals, and religion is the source of all wars.”

“Sean…” Hayes said with a fatherly sternness. He propped one fist on his hip while his other arm was confidently, methodically lifting a fifty pound dumbbell that he apparently had.

“I know you don’t like it when I talk like that. But it’s messing with my head, man! It keeps me up at night. I mean, I’m already up at night because I’s always writing movies, or writing a theme song to a TV show I’m pitching the next day, or even just playing piano so good because that’s my god is music. But I’m also up because of all this woubtemplating—“

“—Condoubtering,” Hayes corrected, while lifting his pant leg a little to reveal he’s been wearing barbed ankle weights the whole time. The moonlight glistened off his flawlessly-toned calves.

“Yes…and..OK can we actually talk about those ankle weights?”

“You know Billy (Ray Cyrus) will only give them to me because of that rad haircut I gave him that made Myley so jealous, so no you can’t have any.”

“Ok, but the barbs…like, there’s big spikes coming off them…”

Really big. Huge.”

“Yeah, like the size of my…well anyway, and they’re jabbing right into your leg, and you’re bleeding a lot.

“Sean,” he said, adopting a soothing combination of warmth and fatherly sternness, “Who’s the smart one?”

Sean blushed and sunk his hands into his pocket. He slouched like an embarrassed schoolboy and quietly admitted,

“You are.”

“Yes. And because I is so smart I know that 75% of your body is water. And like 40% of it is blood. And since they’re both liquids, I’m really only losing a lot of water. Which means,” he said leadingly, tilting his glasses down and gesturing to Sean to finish the thought. Sean’s eyes lit up even brighter than they already were, as he exclaimed,

“You’re really just losing water weight!”

Hayes leaned back on his elbows and gave a nod at approval before turning his gaze (his ‘Hayes-Gaze’ as he called it) back to his notebook, in which he had resumed writing.

“Asactly,” Hayes said, “Asactly.”

“You know,” Sean said, a grin coming over his face in the same way Jessica Chastain would often come over to his house for scrabble night ever Wednesday, “We make a pretty good team, you and me.”

“We do,” Hayes agreed. “A darn good team. Well, since we’re up here on our hill by ourselves, I’ll say it: A damn good team.”

Sean’s eyes lit up in the same way they had earlier, and also in the way the stars were shining and the city lights were glistening off Hayes’ perfectly toned calves and the light on Hayes’ pen was glowing, and he said, with a snap of his fingers:

“That’s it!”

Hayes shot him a puzzled look.

“What’s ‘it?’” he asked.

Us. The meaning of life. It’s all about us!

“Sean, I think for once you’re the smart one because I don’t even know what you’re talking about right now.”

Sean clasped his hands together and began to pace professorially, like their late best bud and fantasy-rugby competitor Steve Jobs used to do when announcing a new computer phone.

“Asactly, Hayes. Asactly! You and me? We make a good team. And between the two of us we’s got all the answers. Maybe the meaning of all this isn’t just making great movies, or TV shows, or rocking out so hard on the piano just for fun—maybe we’re supposed to be a team, and make the world a better place by sharing our knowledge.”

Hayes took his glasses off and wiped them on his #Shirtmuch? T-shirt, because they were fogged over with joyful tears.

“S-man, that’s beautiful,” he said. “But the thing is, we’s both so smart that I don’t even know where to begin. If we tried to just tell people all the information we both know their whole heads would asplode because of all the truth just kablamming in their brains.”

“You’re right,” Sean said, disappointed but not defeated. “We need to marrow our focus.” He looked around for some source of inspiration.

“Yeah, well while you’re looking around I’m gonna keep writing in this notebook I’ve been writing in the whole time.”

Sean gasped audibly and staggered a little bit in euphoric shock.

“Hayes ya big goof, that’s it! What are you writing? There’s gotta be something in there we could drop some truth bombs about, but not in the same way all the army guys drop bombs on poor third world countries because of religion starting all the wars.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just some stupid insider’s guide I literally write as a jerkoff. About how to kick butt and drop names in the red-carpet-lined back hallways of this industry.”

“The one we call showbiz?”

“Asactly. How’s that gonna help?”

“Hayes ol’ buddy,” Sean said with a sly grin and a hand on his hip as he looked up at the Hollywood sign they had been sitting underneath the entire time, “I think I have just the idea!”

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Can someone summarize the last ten pages

Colt Barton's sporadic posting about meeting Shaq (Shap) at a Phoenix Hooters spurred a beautiful upcoming 20 part docu-series on ESPN.


Also, it isn't it so fucking lame that Jakal couldn't be here to contribute to this? Haven't seen anyone else mention him but he doesn't seem like the kind of guy to hold it against us so I think we're in the clear.

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Matt Mira was the engineer on Todd Glass and Jimmy Dore's podcast Comedy and Everything Else. He worked at the Apple store at the time. I think he just became successful because he met Chris Hardwick and they hit it off since they both like Ninja Turtles and Battle Toads. But I think they just keep him around because he makes Jonah Ray look good.

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that marcoroni meeting obamacare site needs more photos of barry with catranch cats

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"The gates were unlocked, sir."

Maron stared down his intern with the ferocity of 10,000 super suns.

"I gave you one simple instruction, you bean brained pig fucker. I gave you one fucking instruction and you fucked it up. I hate to do this, but I hate lying even more. I love to do this."

Maron unbuckled his belt and fastened it around the intern's thin wrists, showing a toothy grin while the child's tears hit the garage floor. He surveyed a cold metal locker, scanning it for the appropriate tool to show the lowly intern just how serious he was about the gates. Those gates protected his prized possession, one that had been stolen from him in the wee hours of a foggy California morning. ' A chainsaw? Too barbaric', he thought. 'A machete? Too cliche.' His eyes widened and his mouth curved into a grin. 'Ah, there she is. My homemade shank made from the bones of Lorne Michaels. That will do.'

He turned to the fearful boy, shank in hand.

"Like my SNL rejection, this might sting."

As he pulled his arm back to gain momentum, the child screamed.

"WAIT! I think I know who stole Obama," he cowered.

"Get on with it, you fool!"

"There were two Hollywood execs creeping around the property last week, asking questions about our gate locking procedure."

"WHO STOLE OBAMA?" Maron screamed, spitting in the poor child's mouth.


to be continued

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oh man, we're doing Maron fan fic now? Slippery slope...


p.s. I just want to add that the 2 trailer videos I posted are completely different experiences. The 2nd one features an original song by A Bear (pending litigation)

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None of that actually happened. Can officially out Ronnie as a dirty, rotten liar. Did you do it for fame?
I did it so you would mention my name. It's official gang, I made it!
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Wow. I was away for the weekend and I couldn't be arsed reading through all I missed so I'll try and guess what was said:

  • New members: "Let's try and break the rules and start new threads before getting a feel for the place and clicking into line. Also, ADC probably has a super sweet bod behind the mug in his picture. I bet he's really strong too. He's definitely good at jumping. I can tell."


Fuck, was I suppposed to start a thread?

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"Like my SNL rejection, this might sting."




I didn't listen to the Maronbama Podstravaganza, but I saw on an MSNBC headline that Obama was dropping N-bombs left and right. It looks like he's coming out swinging in this podcast business trying to make himself look like real bad boy but doesn't know there's only two bad boys in this town name of Sean and Hayes baddest boys in town sometimes don't even finish their dinner before they crack open on a cool otter pop cause they don't listen to nobody but their own guts.


(I actually did listen. I think it could have been more interesting, but maybe not. Obama started off by bustin Marc's chaps and calling him a narcissist, but then after that it just kinda fell into puff piece mode. Maybe it would have been lighter in tone if that shooting didn't happen two days before it was taped. Sorry guys this parenthetical bit isn't very funny.)

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So I just got back from 'vacation' and was planning on finally watching the last two episodes of GOT, but before I put it on I decided to skim through the forums real quick to see how much you all missed me. Not only did nobody mention my absence once, but I also ended up spending the past 2.5 hours reading everything on the forums which mainly was the transcript of the soon to be released Colt Barton 30 for 30. Completely worth it.

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