This episode of The Burt Selleck Podcast is an exhausting exercise in chaos, confrontation, and cum metaphysics, clocking in as one of the more unhinged entries in the show’s already lawless archive. There’s a football postmortem up top—half-hearted analysis sandwiched between dick jokes and mutual invalidation—before the show veers completely off-road. What follows is 90 minutes of libertarian-baiting, robot child bodies, Ed Gein home decor critiques, and an extended conversation about ejaculatory velocity that is somehow both vivid and deeply clinical.

Nick attempts to introduce a moment of genuine emotional vulnerability after watching a traumatic video, but is quickly shouted down by his co-hosts who prefer their friendship transactional and legally binding. The “only fans, no friends” bit becomes the philosophical backbone of the episode—a bleak yet hilarious commentary on parasocial relationships, creative burnout, and the commodification of camaraderie. Alex’s riffs are as sharp as ever, and John’s deadpan legalese continues to be a quietly devastating weapon.

The back third devolves into a slurry of neighborhood disputes, bowel movements, and bad dietary choices—all topped with a finale that feels like a group of children high on sugar trying to land a plane. And somehow, it works.

Recommend? Yes, but only to the initiated. This is not a starter episode. It’s messy, manic, occasionally brilliant—and deeply Burt Selleck.

“HVAC Mercenaries” is the kind of episode that starts with a middle finger to structure and then spends two full hours proving why structure might actually be a good idea. Nick opens with the dramatic claim that he won’t speak unless the others mention something he cares about—then proceeds to talk almost non-stop, which is as close as this podcast gets to narrative irony.

What follows is a relentless, stream-of-consciousness marathon where topics range from UFO audiobooks, different Bible versions, and mercenary HVAC technicians, to graveyard sex and cum-stained Zap Zone shirts. It's like four smart, funny guys got stuck in a time loop and decided to spend it all riffing. Hitchens, the Jefferson Bible, Tool vs. System of a Down, and South Park’s production schedule all make appearances—often in the same ten-minute stretch.

The highlight, if you can call it that, is a surprisingly earnest (and deranged) philosophical tangent about aliens as time travelers or ghosts, quickly derailed by a bit on pooping cocaine and ASMR gay porn bait-and-switch videos.

Would I recommend this episode to a friend? Honestly, only the brave ones. It’s hilarious in places, insane in others, and mostly for those who enjoy a podcast that feels like being trapped in a car with three comedians during a coke-fueled road trip through nihilism. There's brilliance here, but you have to sift through a lot of beard dandruff and cum metaphors to find it.

This episode of The Burt Selleck Podcast is a chaotic, rambling triumph of nonsense that somehow becomes weirdly endearing the longer you stay with it. From the opening argument about music intros and podcast rankings to the absurd speculation about podcast playoff structures, the show luxuriates in its own lack of direction. It’s like being trapped in a dorm room with three comedians who drank too much coffee and forgot they were recording.

The tone swerves between earnestness and outright stupidity—one moment, they’re debating pirate justice and praying mantis parasites; the next, they’re fantasizing about interviewing Obama or running the perfect podcast football playbook. Ian, notably absent, becomes both a scapegoat and a saint, repeatedly mocked and mourned.

Highlights include the sustained pirate tangent (complete with historically accurate keel-hauling trivia), the unhinged Kanye rant, and a surprisingly heartfelt discussion about fatherhood and college-age children—proving that even the most chaotic bros have soft spots.

Would I recommend this episode? Yes, but only to those who can stomach two hours of derailed conversation punctuated by moments of sharp humor and bizarre insight. It’s not for everyone, but it is definitively, unapologetically them.