Ladies and gentlebros, it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you on the eve of one of our greatest holidays that I, your hero, have been censored. Yes, the rights guaranteed me in the First Amendment, easily the best of our amendments (despite the belief of some hillbillies that “First is the worst, Second is the best, Third is the one that prevents soldiers from being quartered in your home without your permission”), have been violated. Who could have done such a despicable act, you may be wondering. Well you are obviously a moron. Didn’t you read the title? It was Eric.

Eric Russolini.

During our most recent episode, you may have noticed Eric’s utterly nonsensical dubbing over of my voice at various points. Each of those times I was attempting to explain that, while the level of bourbon in my glass was higher than his, it was only because I was on my second glass and he on his first. That’s right, it was a coverup. A coverup pooped out by a hateful man and wiped away with the Constitution. Then he used the Declaration of Independence to clean up some sour cream I’d spilled on his carpet.

I’m not even going to tell you what he did with the Magna Carta. It was horrible.

Well guess, what? I’ve suffered through Eric’s terrible lies-through-editing long enough and I can’ts stands no mores! I’m going Edward Snowden up in this bitch, except without being a whiny, creepy, hypocritical twat about it. So here’s a list of the dark, horrible things that  Eric has done while recording our show:

• Messily devoured a live puppy named Sprinkles.
• Read aloud the entire script for The English Patient.
• Took a shot at Huey Long(‘s corpse). How he got that body up here from Louisiana I don’t know.
• Drank a hard cider when there was still the option of beer in the fridge.
• Referred to hipsters as “decent folks at heart.”
  

  Scum.

• Carved an ornate scrimshaw of Aaron Paul into a fresh narwhal tusk.
• Opened the Ark of the Covenant and attempted to melt my face.
• Kidnapped Liam Neeson’s daughter.
• Displayed a 1994 letter to George Lucas describing his idea for a character called “Jar Jar Binks.”
• Sang a Katy Perry song. You know the one, it’s awful and all about getting wasted and doing stupid, faux-wacky things. Oh wait, that’s ALL of her songs.
  

  ShutupshutupshutupshutupSHUTUP!

• Got Community canceled.
• Converted to Scientology.
• Poisoned Jon Arryn.
• Revealed that he was Cobra Commander for six months in the early 90’s.
  

  He was also Shredder for a week and a half.

• Used a time machine to try to purchase an indulgence from the Catholic Church after Pope Pius V’s 1567 decree against such actions.
• Removed a lifelike latex mask to reveal that he is actually Shia LaBeouf.
• Didn’t get a lot of super obvious classic Simpsons references.
  

  Why don’t you get funny things, dammit!?

• Called Pierce Brosnan “the best James Bond ever for all time always.”
• Stabbed the Tooth Fairy.
• Called bald eagles “okay birds at best.”
• Flopped.
  

  Gonna play it like a bitch, huh?

• Voted for Buchanan.
• Voted for Kang. And then didn’t get this reference.
• Took off his pants to reveal that, below the waist, his “skin was thickly covered with coarse black fur, and from the abdomen a score of long greenish-grey tentacles with red sucking mouths protruded limply. Their arrangement was odd, and seemed to follow the symmetries of some cosmic geometry unknown to earth or the solar system. On each of the hips, deep-set in a kind of pinkish, ciliated orbit, was what seemed to be a rudimentary eye; whilst in lieu of a tail there depended a kind of trunk or feeler with purple annular markings, and with many evidences of being an undeveloped mouth or throat. His limbs, save for their black fur, roughly resembled the hind legs of prehistoric earth’s giant saurians, and terminated in ridgy-veined pads that were neither hooves nor claws.”*
  

  Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate…

• Confessed to being the subject of Carly Simon’s 1972 classic “You’re So Vain.”
• Gave Michael Bay two thumbs up.
• Had sex with a dog. She eventually gave birth to a puppy. It’s name was Sprinkles.
  

  Poor Sprinkles…

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. The gross, hateful, puppy-eating iceberg. So this Independence Day, keep in mind the terrible price I have to pay in dealing with the hours of horror that my co-host spews forth just so you can see the well-edited, goofy, benign results. And enjoy your right to say whatever you want on the internet, because, as long as Eric is our editor, I never will.

Josef Staleric.

I suppose I could start editing episodes, but then I’d have to be up late Sunday night. Fuck that. I get sleepy and I’d rather just complain. Because I still have that freedom, at least. Happy America Day, friends!

‘Merica.

*A cookie to anyone who gets this reference!