Reggae, Buffets, and other Betrayals
Jeff and Chris take a hard look at how their tastes have aged—like fine wine left open in a hot car. What starts as a celebration of survival (“nobody famous died this week!”) spirals into a brutally honest confessional about everything they used to love and now can’t stand, and vice versa.
Revel as they roast reggae, air travel, buffets, and humanity in general while reluctantly admitting they’ve turned into the Muppet balcony duo, Statler and Waldorf. There’s righteous outrage over McDonald’s digestion science, soda regret, and the unholy buffet sneeze guard.
Then—because growth is a thing—they pivot to rediscovered loves: Tom Petty, Fleetwood Mac, Lionel Richie, and the miracle of eating foods that aren’t beige.
Somewhere between mocking cheap beer, hating crowds, and accidentally liking hikes, the guys realize they’ve evolved into their own grumpy dads, with microphones and better lighting.
