Jared here. A club mix. With dancing women over it. I’d sue the bastards, but damned if it doesn’t somehow feel truer than my original acoustic version.
Jared here. I figured out what a hypothetical pastry expense is, and no I won’t tell you because it’s like Tubgirl to the factor of 2 Girls One Cup times Beverly Hills Chihuahua. Oh god, if I say t...
Having shut him up, I resumed the Sudoku. Many fine Sudoku have been completed in a cafe. People like to say Sudoku. Say it with me. Sudoku. Sudoku. Roll it around until it sounds like a sushi roll...
The strip club does have a buffet, but we figured we shouldn’t tempt fate, since we’d already cheated the odds on hepatitis.
Jared here. I’ll say it again: We just can’t wonder any more. God? Dead. Love? Pheromones. The only remaining mystery is Hannah Montana.
Nick here. I also replaced my sleep with placebo sleep: I think I’m dreaming but I’m really just on a sugar pill. And acid.
Jared here. I really liked that cat, I think. Unless it was a small dog.
I suppose it’s better than the time he told me he’d learned Chinese.
Nick here. My next project is a thousand finger-play fortune tellers. I’m not wishing for anything, I just have a grade school I want to bend to my will. Anyone have a collection of eight thousand ...
Jared here with a peek at this sketch’s deleted scenes: “His grave was covered in FLOURS!” “Gramps died just like my baNANA!” “The funeral took place on a SUNDAE!”
I’m sorry, everyone. Jared will not just read the script I’ve written for him. Nothing’s ever good enough for the talent!
Nick here. Guess over the weekend I’ll need to get a haircut that looks exactly like the one I’ve had in all previous sketches!
Jared here. This was the fifteenth take and the first time Nick didn’t draw blood.
Welcome back, hardy few. Jared here. You should have seen Nick’s little legs flapping and then going limp as he bobbed to the surface.
Some poor soul told me they avoided watching these clips Jared and I made. They thought each one was an hour long. Let me assure you we are far too lazy to shoot anything much longer than a pop son...
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