Episode 31 - "Alexa, Where's My Package?"

Once again into the breach, and by "breach" I mean technical frustrations!  I swear, whenever we're doing the show via Skype, things just get more and more frustrating, but in just a couple more episodes, we'll be back in studio, so please bear with us as we tackle the following issues:

-Delivery Tracking
-Weaponized Consent Laws

It's a staple of the modern age, it seems, to order something online.  From tools to entertainment to food, we click the "confirm" button and the excitement begins to set in as we eagerly await whatever it is we've spent our hard-earned money on.  And, to heighten that sense of expectation, you can now track your shipment on every leg of its journey, and even see when it's supposed to arrive.  The key words being "supposed to".  But even Alexa can't make the delivery driver competent, and when they screw up and your precious, anticipated package doesn't find its way into your hot little hands, it's upsetting.  Very upsetting.  Upsetting enough to make one need the reasurring comfort of human touch, like a hug.  But what if you're just too socially inept to score a hug without money exchanging hands?  Well . . .

Like most folks these days, Uncle Buck is way too addicted to Facebook.  And every so often, he runs across something so strange, so backwards, so inexplicably stupid that he just can't wrap his head around it.  But could he wrap his arms around it?  I'm talking, of course, about Professional Cuddlists.  What are those, you may ask?  They're charlatans who have somehow managed to make a living by selling non-sexual physical contact.  Like hugs.  Or cuddling.  Or dry humping?  But, it seems like most folks chicks don't need to hire a professional to hug or hump them; they can find that on their own.  But maybe some things you shouldn't be doing on your own . . .

As one comedian put it, Pinterest is where your girlfriend stares at her phone for eight hours and then you eat salad out of a mason jar.  But, aside from helping birth the Ten Word List perk for our Patreon subscribers, it's also a place that convinces the least skilled among us that they too can slap together some ramshackle monstrosity and boldly declare "nailed it!" to the world.  Well, how about when the "nailed it" refers to the rusty nails that you failed to remove from pallet wood that pierces your skin somewhere and requires a tetanus shot?  Or how about if your DIY playhouse collapses and kills your dog?  Let's face it, sometimes taking a half-assed stab at something just because you saw it on the internet isn't such a good idea.  Sometimes trying to do it yourself will only get you screwed, and you'll have no one to blame but yourself.  But speaking of blaming people for screwing you . . .

If you're one of those folks who has managed to shed your professional cuddlists and found some actual human affection in the real world, watch out, because even though money isn't exchanging hands, sex is getting to where it requires a signed contract.  Why?  Because of weaponized consent laws, so that even though yes means yes, sometimes it can also mean no.  Especially during or after the fact.  And whereas some folks are decent enough to talk things over before the banging begins, sometimes you wind up in these situations and find that things aren't going as planned.  Consent laws are, on the surface, a great thing that give victims of rape a voice to hold their attacker accountable, but that pendulum can swing both ways.  It's very easy for any rule to be abused, and when that abuse is used to accuse someone of rape, you can permanently ruin someone's personal and professional reputation.  Buck talks about a solution, but it may not be for everyone.

Our buddy Sage calls in three separate voicemails, and our Aussie buddy Pork Hunt gives his two cents on the Air Compressor debate.  Whose side did he take?  Find out on this week's episode!