Navigational Skillz (April 29, 2021)

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Not much, just me simultaneously driving a semi and a UPS truck up California Highway 37. 

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I'm Delusional (April 28, 2021)

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Outside of some house, Joyce DeWitt leaps over a fence, which inspires me to give her a prolonged smooch. I then find her Three's Company co-star Richard Kline (Larry) and tearfully apologize about John Ritter's death "I TRIED TO SAVE HIM!!!"

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So Much Assault (April 25, 2021)

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Best one of the year so far and an easy Hall-of-Fame inductee.

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Things begin with me and a colleague escorting a couple of mentally-slow clients to a discount store. We browse around and all is well...until my client (who we'll call "Seth") finds an oversized pencil he ordered not to his satisfaction. Seth's mood sours and eventually, he tries to attack me with the pencil. I'm forced to punch him in the stomach to get him under control.

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Twice more, Seth—who isn't small—comes after me, going for my eyes with the pencil at one point. (WTF did I let him keep the pencil?) I beat him some more, this time drawing blood, and we all pile back into the car and leave. My colleague is driving, I'm riding shotgun, and Seth is in the backseat grumbling.

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For whatever reason, my colleague avoids the main road and instead drives through side roads and alleys to return to our base. In one alley, kids dart into our path, at least one of them intentionally. After repeated braking, I get fed up and knock the kids down through my passenger window. I also get fed up with my idiot colleague's route and exit the car, opting to run/walk back to base.

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Shortly, night falls, and I'm still nowhere near where I need to be. I pass some 20-something guy who, after a brief exchange, reveals himself to be a gay sex worker. Caught off-guard, I tell the guy "...maybe next time" which to him, means right now. He tries to physically drag me off to parts unknown, but I resist. Finally, he gives me his card and promises oral pleasure. I continue on, confirming I still have my wallet and phone.

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A few minutes later, I stop at some restaurant. Outside waiting for me is a Lee Majors-type fella with an evil smile on his face. I immediately conclude he saw/heard my exchange with the sex worker and wants to kick my ass. Before he can, I get the advantage and slam his head repeatedly on the sidewalk until he's toast.

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Inside the restaurant, I head straight for the restroom, where yet another guy waits. This one is younger, shirtless and well-built, and he too seems to want a fight. This time, I'm out of fight and collapse on the floor, ready for whatever beating is coming. But all this guy does is give me a "blow" job—he literally blows across my entire midsection, then he spits a liter of some clear fluid on my crotch before booking it from the restroom. ???

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Outside, it is daytime again...but I do not have my wallet and phone. I return inside and find the spit guy, who sheepishly returns both items. End vision.

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(Other scenes include me trying to climb up a very unsafe airplane ramp around an unconscious girl, YouTube sensation Dr. Jason and I turning the 1250 garage into a gym, and present-day Willie Mays in a UFC match in New York.)

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So...Nothing Really Changes (April 23, 2021)

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This one stars the four hosts of Good Morning Football: Kay Adams, Nate Burleson, Peter Schrager and Kyle Brandt.

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Burleson informs me of my firing from ESPN, from a position I didn't know I had held since 2018. I go to some random pharmacy to collect my final check, waiting along with Adams, Schrager and Brandt—none of whom say one word to me or even each other.

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Too Drowsy For Love (April 22, 2021)

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After an exciting win by the San Francisco Giants, studio host Greg Papa does the postgame show from my apartment. I'm his first caller, but on the air I'm barely sensible and Papa's forced to hang up on me prematurely. I exit my own home in shame.

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At a convenience store, people are randomly selected as date contestants by local sports station 95.7 The Game. One man says he's too obese and too stupid to play, then goes long-winded and off-topic until host Joe Fortenbaugh ends his turn. I pretend to sleep through my turn, leading some girl to plant a pity kiss on my forehead as she exits.

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In the parking lot, I pat a guy on the back. "Don't pat me!" he demands.

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Ten Years To Decide (April 21, 2021)

 

Alex calls to inform me she's got some of my mail, including a "list" with an address. I visit the address and it's a business I applied to in 2011; Alex is also there being interviewed by CNN's S.E. Cupp. I quickly decide, after meeting the boss, that this job isn't for me but my car's been partially boxed in...and scratched.

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I get the car out and re-enter the building for some reason...and of course the car goes missing. Turns out the mechanic has taken it and begun repairs, but I don't trust him and demand he stops. So back outside I go, where I discover some construction project underway near a field of farm animals. One idiot worker drops a chemical onto a cow; it struts around in agony and rises to its hind legs before dramatically keeling over.

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Eschucha, Perro (April 16, 2021)

 

Not much from me, just a controversial comment from local radio host Ray Ratto and a friend of mine making a vain attempt to teach Spanish to my cousin's dog.

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But from Chicken, our Drunk Jon co-creator: our circle of friends work at a company that is holding nominations for workplace awards. Of all things, I nominate Chicken for eating the most beef tacos in an airport. He is way more excited than he (or anyone) should be.

 

At Least I Tried (April 11, 2021)

Josie swims in an inflatable pool with a small brown dog, who soon goes under. I close my eyes and fish the dog out, only realizing after I've begun chest compressions that I've fished out a balloon dog. Eventually the pool is emptied and the original brown dog turns out to be a toy.

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Next, I'm left stunned by the hideous legs of a delivery worker on the property, after which a report of Betty White's death turns up in the newspaper. (Upon awakening, it takes a while to realize White didn't actually bite it.)

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Forget Cradle; She's A Womb-Robber (April 10, 2021)

I find my 47-year-old ex in bed with 20-year-old James Wiseman of the Golden State Warriors; my response is to apologize for everything I ever did wrong in our relationship while barely holding back tears. Next, after hiding from a nun at my INV neighbor's house, I Uber to Wal-Mart with my array of colorful lucky pens in hand.

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But Dylan, Drugs Are Bad! (April 7, 2021)

It's Beverly Hills, 90210; after filming our scenes for the opening credits, me and the main cast begin shooting an episode. My character tries in vain to talk sense into the spiraling Dylan, while David decides to become the slapstick comedian of the group, falling down at every turn. Eventually shooting ends, and as I exit the studio I come across a large group of people in shock over some skateboarding dude fatally impaling himself sideways on a bench somehow.

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Things end with me doing some type of school performance with the American flag and at least one of the Golden Girls in attendance.

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Bodies On The Floor (April 5, 2021)

 

We begin with me as Dipper from the cartoon Gravity Falls; Mabel and I are tasked with saving the world from disaster as well as winning a baking contest. We're making progress on both fronts when we accidentally disturb former Oakland Athletics legend Dave Stewart; our apologies fall on angry, deaf ears. So we continue battling the evil Gideon's plan until he somehow snatches Mabel away. I later find a note telling me to attend a City Hall meeting at 5pm that evening if I want Mabel unharmed. Just as 5pm approaches...

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...skip to the viewing of a woman in a coffin, and a toddler and dog on a grassy mat near the coffin. I'm disturbed by the display and GTFO without even finding out who the deceased are or what happened to them.

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Things end with me being dropped off at a casino in San Francisco (?), where my buddy Juan is gambling with and losing to a bunch of strippers. I choose to not intervene.

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Not Gonna Happen, Bob (April 3, 2021)

Warriors broadcaster Bob Fitzgerald and I are lying on top of a bed, watching and (kind of) calling a Warriors game. During a break, Fitz leans over and smooches me; I obviously resist and move across the room, comically watching the side of the TV just to keep distance from Fitz.

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Skip to my old baseball league, which is having a Home Run Derby. I get 10 chances but cannot even manage a ball out of the infield; later on, as I play outfield for other contestants, a massive flash mob dressed in all white takes over the field briefly. Yells my leaguemate Rob: "Sorry ass flash mob. Don't you know who I am?!"

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Things end with me physically restraining my visiting mom from confronting my downstairs neighbors over loud music at 4am. I'm ashamed because restraining a nearly 70-year-old woman is harder for me than it should be.