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Three years. Zero restraint. We dive headfirst into 1987, 1988, and 1989—the final rumble of the Eighties—where U2, Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, Guns N’ Roses, Madonna, and N.W.A battled for airtime while movies like Die Hard, Batman, and When Harry Met Sally reset what a blockbuster could be. It’s a season finale recorded on a strangely warm Christmas Eve porch in North Carolina, complete with the usual laughter, side quests, and uncomfortable truths about who really bought those neon cheese balls.

We sort through the top albums and singles that dominated radio and memory, then challenge the idea of “one‑hit wonders” by calling out the bands that never fit the label. Expect detours into snack history—Crystal Pepsi, Planters’ glowing cheese balls, ecto‑cooler—and the infamous fads that filled every mall: acid‑wash denim, shoulder pads, stirrup pants, and bucket hats. We also revisit the headlines that stuck: the Max Headroom signal hijack, the Exxon Valdez spill, and the ’89 Bay Area earthquake that stopped the World Series mid‑breath. On TV, The Simpsons went from sketch to institution as Seinfeld launched quietly and Baywatch sprinted down the beach, setting up a new era of pop culture touchstones.

Sports fans get quick hits from Giants‑Broncos to 49ers‑Bengals, Lakers dominance, and Gretzky’s seismic move to LA. Through it all, we’re honest about what we loved, what we skipped, and why these years still punch above their weight. To cap it off, we tease season three: a looser, artist‑driven format with sharper takes, deeper dives, and the same refusal to stay neatly on topic.

If you enjoy smart nostalgia with some porch‑level candor, tap follow, share the show with a friend, and leave a quick review. Which late‑Eighties year wins your vote—1987, 1988, or 1989? Tell us and join the conversation.

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Holiday cheer meets porch-chaos honesty as we light up the season with sunshine, BBQ talk, and the kind of tangents only two old friends can justify. We kick off with Rupert’s wry preamble, then slide straight into football plans, the fallout from a “takeover” that left our studio sticky and suspicious, and the comfort of being off work even when you know the restart will hurt. Warm weather doesn’t kill the spirit; it just changes the soundtrack.

Music and movies become our map. We swap favorites from The Little Drummer Boy to Nat King Cole, then reach for the memory-soaked heart of Merle Haggard’s If We Make It Through December. The list debates get loud and fun: Brenda Lee vs. Mariah Carey, Wham vs. Bing, and whether Die Hard deserves its place under the tree. We make the case for Elf, salute A Christmas Story, and admit that Miracle on 34th Street still hits when the room goes quiet. These aren’t rankings so much as rituals—ways to remember who we were and who we still want to be.

We also unwrap the weird old customs: Victorian trees with stuffed birds, Yule logs with superstitions, Santa as public disciplinarian, and towns that aired your year’s sins on a holiday stage. It’s absurd, a little dark, and deeply human. Between the laughs we pause for what matters: checking on neighbors, acknowledging loss, and choosing kindness when December feels heavier than it looks. We point you to our platforms and the site where you can drop us an anonymous message, then tease our season 2 finale where we tackle 1987–1989 with confidence and questionable accuracy.

Pull up a chair and add your voice. Subscribe, share with a friend who loves list wars, and leave a quick review so others can find us. What’s your must-play song, your forever movie, your family’s odd tradition? Tell us—we’re listening.

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What happens when two holiday agents of chaos barricade a studio and decide to host their own “festive special”? We crank the mics, ditch the plan, and turn December into a glittering avalanche of bits, banter, and questionable wisdom. It’s a rogue broadcast where the only rules are “don’t press the big red button” and “we already pressed it.”

We charge through the season’s soft spots with reckless cheer: fruitcake as a friendship test, tinsel as household glitter you never escape, and eggnog as both beverage and moral gamble. The invite drama gets real—open bars, forgotten emails, and the phantom Christmas bonus—before a parody of “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas” veers spectacularly off the nice list. Between laughs, we drop strangely useful advice: keep outlets under control, deep-fry turkeys outside, and don’t trust any drink that tastes like nutmeg and secrets.

The mailbag is a show of its own: an HOA citation for a 20-foot inflatable, a yodeler trapped with a sock-drawer chipmunk, Tom begging us to stop mailing “emotional support elk,” and a smart eight-year-old suggesting we come with warning labels. We also tour global traditions—Japan’s KFC Christmas, the Icelandic Yule Cat, Krampus Night, and Spain’s candy-pooping log—and argue about what traditions are really for: comfort, chaos, or coping with winter. Somewhere in the madness, a sincere note peeks through: joy isn’t the perfect tree or the perfect plan; it’s that one bright moment you actually feel.

If you crave polished holiday content, Mike and Tom will be back to restore order. If you’re here for unfiltered cheer, flawed logic, and a surprising amount of heart, this takeover is your seasonal chaos capsule. Hit play, share a laugh, and tell us your weirdest holiday tradition—we’ll read the best ones on air. Subscribe, rate, and leave a review to keep this circus lit through the long winter nights.

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