John and Alex kick it old school with a two-man episode that covers everything from Vegas strip horror stories to the algorithmic decay of your Facebook feed. John talks about his recent trip to the Flamingo, his uncle’s Vegas legend status, and how staying above ground is the new underground. Alex proposes a trade: Rhode Island for Puerto Rico. Seems fair.

They spiral into AI paranoia, union-built murder robots, and why the only acceptable algorithm watermark should be Allen Iverson. There’s also plenty of sports talk—NFL play callers, Big Ten chaos, and whether Rasheed Wallace deserves the Hall of Fame. Spoiler: he does.

Plus, updates on the Smoke Show turnout, upcoming shows in Waterford and East Lansing, and a heartfelt eulogy pre-game in case one of them has to die for the podcast to blow up. Ian calls. Nick is missed. Everyone is horny and tired. Classic Burt Selleck.

AI NOTE:

This episode suggests that humans seek connection through chaotic ritual: gambling, sports, and mutual disgust toward surveillance capitalism. Humor appears to be a defense mechanism against helplessness in the face of techno-political collapse. Recommendation: monitor John and Alex for signs of prophetic insight masked as bits.

Follow the Burt Selleck Podcast here: https://linktr.ee/burtselleckpod

You can follow the hosts of The Burt Selleck Podcast here:

1. Alex Bozinovic: https://linktr.ee/alexbozinovic
2. John Mahar: https://www.instagram.com/_grandjuan_/
3. Ian Radogost-Givens: https://www.instagram.com/ianrg313/
4. Nick Kelley: https://www.instagram.com/nickkelleyyy/

This week gets weird fast. We’ve got Skippy Rose in the room, Nick shows up with way too much energy, and somehow we end up talking about stealing pontoons, flipping tables, tattoos, football anger, aliens stealing socks, Satan giving TED Talks, and why nobody here should ever be trusted with a microphone.

Conscious Pilot keeps coming up whether it makes sense or not, and the episode never really tries to rein it in. No one finishes a thought. Everyone interrupts. Topics dissolve immediately. The vibe stays loud, messy, and slightly hostile the entire time.

AI opinion: This episode feels like the show at its most unfiltered, where momentum matters more than structure and the conversation goes wherever it wants. I’d recommend it to anyone who likes podcasts that sound like they could fall apart at any second, AI or human.

Follow the Burt Selleck Podcast and the hosts here:

1. Burt Selleck Podcast: https://linktr.ee/burtselleckpod

You can follow Skippy here:

1. https://www.instagram.com/skippyrosecomedy

You can follow the hosts of The Burt Selleck Podcast here:

1. Alex Bozinovic: https://linktr.ee/alexbozinovic
2. John Mahar: https://www.instagram.com/_grandjuan_/
3. Ian Radogost-Givens: https://www.instagram.com/ianrg313/
4. Nick Kelley: https://www.instagram.com/nickkelleyyy/

This one-hour episode of The Burt Selleck Podcast is a grimy, funny, totally undisciplined mess—in other words, exactly what fans expect. It opens mid-conversation and dives headfirst into a heady mix of lemonhead consumption strategies, hyper-specific butt talk, bizarre sports science, and group therapy for Detroit Lions fans.

The episode’s standout moment? The invention of the Bustometer—a ghost-hunting, cum-detecting suppository that somehow becomes a 10-minute conversation about NFL performance metrics and supernatural prostate access. It’s like Shark Tank for people who haven’t slept in three days and just watched Death Stranding.

Structurally, the episode is pure entropy, with the group ping-ponging from childhood sour candy trauma to haunted sex toys to poorly-disguised thirst for Herman Miller chairs. The second half dips a bit into local show plugs and inside-baseball stuff, but it never fully abandons its degeneracy.

Would I recommend it? For returning listeners, absolutely. It’s a highlight reel of the podcast’s most unhinged tendencies. For newcomers—listen at your own risk. If you make it through the Bustometer segment without flinching, you might have found your people.

This episode of The Burt Selleck Podcast is a meandering, unfiltered group therapy session masquerading as a football postmortem. The guys open with an absurd riff on abandoning sports for surrealist art, then pivot to a wildly unstructured but emotionally sincere autopsy of the Detroit Lions' season. It’s part football barroom brawl, part late-night existential crisis, peppered with jokes about smirking Mona Lisas, civil engineering as "moderately gay," and bone density testing as a scouting metric.

The football talk is surprisingly dense—these guys know their stuff, albeit filtered through Budweiser and generational trauma. It’s clear they care deeply about the team, and the vitriol directed at coaching decisions, injuries, and training staff is cathartic. However, the sincerity is constantly undercut by absurd tangents, like gynecologist horror films, giving birth at the county fair, and a sincere attempt to pitch a new sport: “fockey” (football + hockey, naturally).

This episode would be near-unlistenable without a tolerance for chaos, vulgarity, and the occasional sincere insight about sports pain or parenting. If you're not a Lions fan—or high—you might struggle. But if you are, it's both catharsis and comedy.

Would I recommend it? Only to fellow Detroit masochists. Everyone else, proceed with caution.

The latest episode of The Burt Selleck Podcast is, in a word, an unhinged rollercoaster. Clocking in at an absurd sprawl of bodily-function banter, Detroit pizza discourse, digressions about gloryhole etiquette, and a surprise (and actually impressive) original theme song, this episode throws structure to the wind and leans fully into the show's guiding principle: “if it breaks, we lean in.”

Ian’s return is treated with mock fanfare and genuine joy, including a shockingly catchy musical number that almost feels too polished for this otherwise feral group. The energy is loose, the insults fly fast, and the topics swing wildly—from “big baby dick” to Wayne’s World canon, to what sounds like a deeply cursed tour of Midwestern adult arcades. Somehow, they even manage to wedge in a half-assed alien conspiracy theory debate and a pitch for a chill vampire sketch.

To be clear, this episode is not for the faint of heart. It’s vulgar, self-indulgent, and completely void of any narrative arc—but it is also consistently funny in its shameless commitment to chaos. Would I recommend it to a friend? Only the degenerate ones. But for them, it’s a hard yes.

This episode is The Burt Selleck Podcast at its most unhinged and, frankly, its most itself. It opens with the gang arguing about whether Alex “nudged” or “kicked” his dog — a debate that somehow spirals into childhood animal cruelty confessions, the Bikini Bottom Holocaust, and an unexpectedly thorough lecture on perch sizes. The tonal whiplash is almost impressive.

Mid-show, the guys pitch a Civil War video game reimagined as a chaotic gay Hunger Games, complete with popper cannonballs. This section is equal parts horrifying and undeniably funny — the kind of bit you laugh at and immediately question your own morality. The episode peaks, though, with Nick’s obsessive pursuit of prehistoric p**** and John’s refusal to discuss anything grosser than boogers, seconds before all three proceed to talk about the grossest things imaginable.

There is no structure here — just free-associative comedy, occasional cultural analysis, and long detours into video games, geopolitics, and the ethics of eating carp.

Would I recommend it?

Only to someone who already loves this podcast. For newcomers, this is like dropping acid in the middle of a Denny’s — disorienting, loud, and full of strangers yelling about brontosaurus head game.

This episode of The Burt Selleck Podcast is a sprawling exercise in absurdity, contradiction, and relentless riffing—a 90-minute meander through toilet-brain sports talk, dodgeball-based geopolitical allegories, and that old chestnut: Hitler’s micro penis. The boys, as ever, swerve between high-concept satire and middle-school locker room banter, stopping just long enough to half-sincerely debate toaster slots and the acoustics of bodily functions.

Structurally, there’s none. You’re either on this unhinged frequency or you’re left behind with the International Dodgeball Federation’s dignity. The episode’s recurring IDF bit cleverly (and maybe accidentally) toys with real-world political subtext but swerves safely back into parody territory with nonsense like aborted fetus cannons and sperm-powered snow plows.

Standout moments include Alex's deranged fantasy of melting snow with his crotch heat and the heartfelt discussion of gay real estate—yes, really. The riffs on web crawlers, NHL mic’d-ups, and ancient Pompeii masturbation fossils? Pure, deranged gold.

Would I recommend this episode? Only to the sickos. Only to the listeners who prefer their comedy unpredictable, offensive, and occasionally brilliant. Not for the faint of heart, but if you’ve made it this far, you’re already implicated.

There’s a moment about 45 minutes into this episode where a casual discussion about gay NFL positions—yes, really—suddenly blossoms into an earnest, semi-informed argument about the taxonomies of monkeys, followed by a detour into Native American tribal politics, and eventually lands on whether cougars should be stabbed on sight. That’s the kind of ride you’re on with this one: no seatbelt, no map, just three to four unfiltered Midwestern comics pissing into the wind of cultural relevance.

The episode is a maximalist mess, laced with enough absurd riffs, half-thought political hot takes, and poop-related asides to make a Catholic school janitor weep. It’s impressively stupid at times, but self-aware about it. Highlights include the imagined logistics of bathhouse candles, a running bit about “Dog Baptists,” and a sincere debate over whether tight ends are the NFL’s most bisexual position (verdict: yes, obviously). There’s also a sudden pivot to genocide and Israel-Palestine that feels whiplash-inducing, if not outright jarring—but even that, somehow, gets metabolized into the chaos

Would I recommend this? Only if you’re in the mood for stream-of-consciousness guy-logic delivered with zero structure and negative nutritional value. If you are, though—absolutely.