This month, a densely-woven Jon's been struggling to keep his mind out of the gutter by smearing a microphone thinly over the top of a modest vape rig and pushin a pre-1994 Barbie doll into a red cabbage, while serving borscht to a red-headed widow. Mike, though, has officially been busier than him, scribbling a 10-year callback on manuscript at 3am and shouting 'Number!' at other podcasters in a hell of his own making. Nevertheless, he's found time to brush aside Will Smith's slap (despite living under a Rock) and consider this year's Oscar-nominated songs. We hear about Billie Eilish trying not to suck. Van Morrison's car-horn brass and BV shred-concealment. A drone-dodging Reba McEntire losing her precariously balanced hat. And Beyonce leaving her ornamental trombonists unpainted for want of a euphoniumist's chair. In other news, we channel George Massenburg through the Tamagotchi recorder to capture the finest one-dimensional voltage wobbles, and (once we've recovered from our pre-shawm flinch) hear a swanee saxophonist making bubblegum instrumentalists sound like skill minnows. All in all, it's an intense emotional struggle with a fretless foghorn on a slightly elevated sofa.
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