This week in the fort, tensions run high when Aimee and Roo kick things off arguing about drinking the night before—but harmony is quickly restored once Roo reveals her freshly straightened, impossibly shiny hair. (She’s found the magic of the flat iron.) Mid-episode, Roo’s boyfriend delivers an actual sushi boat, leading the duo into a deep dive on the miracle and menace of sushi: one bite is bliss, the next could be regret.

Meanwhile, Aimee gets a little emotional—it’s the first year her kid didn’t want to trick-or-treat with her. Roo and Aimee reminisce about the highs and horrors of their own childhood Halloweens, from the best candy hauls to the worst costume disasters.

It’s funny, heartfelt, and just a little raw—don’t miss this one, especially since it’s the second-to-last episode of the season!

This week in the fort, Roo confesses she's feeling guilty for not making enough art lately, but Aimee pushes back and reminds her that she’s constantly creating — and that millions of people have seen her work and she creates unhinged and hilarious shows, like a banana themed serial killer monkey stand-up show recently at Twelve Talons in Oralndo. They both come to the realization that the things that tend to perform well online rarely feature their faces, but maybe that’s a sign they shouldn’t be creating for the algorithm in the first place.

Aimee also reveals that her sexual brand might just be jazz hands, and shares her thoughts on the delicate art of banana ownership — that strange in-between space where you wait for bananas to ripen for banana bread, but try not to forget they exist entirely. It all leads to a conversation about how we often buy fruit for the person we want to be, not the person we actually are, and how small things like this are worth talking about.

Roo reflects on growing up eating almost exclusively at Indian restaurants, and how places like Miller’s Ale House and Chili’s still feel like a novelty — a reminder that sometimes, the most ordinary things can feel like a treat.

This week in the fort, Roo wakes up sore and confused, and Aimee warmly welcomes her to her 30s—where pain just comes with the territory. They reflect on the strange, sneaky ways aging shows up, and how the youth of today are out here saying things like “babes” and “no… stop… wait” with complete sincerity.

Roo reluctantly watched the movie Substance and gives a full-body cringe recap that’s heavy on things crawling under the skin. Despite the pain (and the trauma), she still wants to be a star student in her exercise class. Gold stars forever.

They also chat about Roo’s recently shared school photo, featuring a very cute and very angry little Roo. Her mom told her not to show her teeth when she smiled, which leads to a conversation about how hard it can be to teach kids things—and how they don’t always want to learn. That said, Aimee refuses to let that justify toothless smiling advice.

There’s also some good-natured commentary on Philippe, Roo’s cat and “only son,” who may or may not be a little too round. The two talk about what it’s like to spend time with people who had peaceful childhoods and how that energy be… boring.

Finally, Roo shares a moment with her cleaning lady about the sacred cast iron skillet (and why it absolutely cannot go in the dishwasher), and Aimee makes a compelling point: everyone, everywhere, fights about dishes. It’s just what we do.

Another honest, funny, and thoughtful episode from your favorite spot in the fort.

This week in the fort, Roo talks about oversleeping thanks to lingering jet lag, while Aimee shares her frustration over becoming a morning person and actually enjoying it. Roo gently reminds her that she saw this coming, and Aimee admits she doesn’t say “I told you so” nearly as often as she could.

Roo also shares her experience attending a beautiful Indian wedding full of pink details, while Aimee dives into the world of party planning. Known by some as the “Party Dictator,” Aimee reflects on how being the one in charge can make it hard to have fun and how she’s still figuring out how to be a more relaxed host. Roo agrees that sometimes planning needs to be taken seriously, and both love a good theme.

Later, the conversation shifts to breakfast. Roo has been enjoying overnight oats and makes her case for their cold, creamy goodness. Aimee disagrees completely. She’s not a fan of oats, yogurt, or sweet breakfasts in general. Her ideal breakfast is hearty, savory, and definitely not pretending to be dessert.

Another cozy conversation, full of honest thoughts and shared laughs, from inside the fort.

This week in the fort, Aimee is shocked to discover that Roo knows absolutely nothing about 80s hair bands. How did this happen?! Meanwhile, Aimee shares her recent trip to the Apple Store—where she spotted a woman casually eating an actual apple. In the Apple Store. Which, of course, sent her spiraling into the question: are we all living in a simulation? Because who eats an apple around electronics?!

Roo also dives into one of her biggest travel pet peeves: hotels with frosted glass barn doors instead of real bathroom doors. She’s calling for change—and for a return to proper privacy. No more see-through panels, no more sinks-in-the-room setups. Just doors that close. Please.

It’s a funny, relatable, and totally entertaining episode filled with classic Roo and Aimee observations about modern life’s little absurdities.

In this week’s episode of Pillow Fort, Roo kicks things off with a painful update from her new run club adventure—hello shin splints! Aimee chimes in with sage advice about the importance of taking care of your feet, especially as you get older. From there, the convo takes a nostalgic turn as Aimee reflects on her high school cross country days, her party-girl era, and why she kinda wishes she’d skipped that scene—until Roo makes a strong case for living a little.

Then it’s onto the world of designer bags and classism, where the ladies unpack (pun intended) the drama behind scoring an Hermès bag and what luxury goods say about social status.

Finally, Aimee brings the heart with a real-talk segment on parenting, the struggle to not be a people pleaser, and how giving your kid everything might backfire. The duo even brainstorms a “parenting escape room” to help kids understand the emotional labor their parents shield them from—because trauma builds character, right?

Tune in for laughs, nostalgia, luxury bag tea, and a dash of parental existentialism.

This week inside the cozy chaos of the Pillow Fort, Aimee comes out swinging with a bold confession: she's officially notcool with brunch. As a sober person, she's realized that brunch was really just a socially acceptable excuse to get wasted before 11 AM. She dives into the history of brunch, how it morphed into overpriced, sticky, chaotic events—and don’t get her started on those rickety outdoor tables and unforgiving stools.

Roo joins the brunch discourse with her own hot takes, ranking the various tiers of brunch and happy hour. She makes the case for the “elevated brunch experience” while breaking down which brunches are actually worth your time (and money).

Then the duo tears into the Cracker Barrel rebrand scandal—a grey-washed, price-hiked attempt to attract millennials that's left their original campy audience scratching their heads.

In the second half, Roo vents about her constant urge to rearrange her house and the curse of the open floor plan. Aimee agrees wholeheartedly, declaring open layouts “a crime against women.” Together, they explore organizational ideas and the never-ending war between wanting change and not wanting to redo everything.

Grab a throw blanket and settle in—this episode is part brunch roast, part home therapy, and all vibes.

This week on Pillow Fort, Roo’s house smells suspiciously like pee (again), and she’s spiraling. Meanwhile, Aimee’s social media algorithms won’t stop diagnosing her with Avoidant Attachment Disorder. It’s fine. Everything is fine.

Roo and Aimee dive into the chaos of being just a little too online—from algorithm-induced therapy fatigue to the case for simply touching grass. Roo suggests less self-awareness, more outside time. Aimee misses reading books and walking places without checking five apps first.

Also: why do some friends insist on turning every vacation into a boot camp? Roo goes off about "Itinerary Friends"—the ones who plan hikes, swims, and 7 a.m. excursions when all you want is a cocktail and a nap. She loves and appreciates them, but really doesn’t want to have to do work and relax at the same time. Aimee’s solution? Get older. Old friends like to just sit, eat, and drink on vacation for the most part.

Tune in for a little therapy shade, algorithm anxiety, and your favorite kind of hot takes: the cozy honest ones.