Send us Fan Mail If you’ve ever confidently belted out a lyric only to find out you were wildly wrong, you’ll feel seen here. We’re back on the porch with wind, neighbors, and the kind of unfiltered catch-up that starts with work, dehydration, and the small victories that actually matter, like fina…
Send us Fan Mail World news is heavy, and sometimes the only honest way to talk about it is from a front porch with a friend and zero pretending. We kick things off with what’s happening around Iran, the fear of escalation, the anger over violence against protesters, and the question nobody can dod…
Send us Fan Mail A coworker leaves after years and suddenly the day feels off, even if the work still gets done. That’s where our porch talk starts: the “missing piece” feeling, the way crews change, and how you can be happy for someone’s next move while still bracing for the chaos their absence mi…
Send a text The score said blowout, but it felt like a slow bleed. We kick off with a Super Bowl that hinged on field position, a pick six, and a defense doing the heavy lifting while the offense vanished—then admit the most compelling football might have come earlier, in a Rams vs. Seattle clash t…
Send us a text Snow piles up, the studio sits quiet, and we refuse to miss a week. We hit record across a phone line and dive straight into the heart of winter life: a weekend of football that swung from gripping to grueling, a city wrapped in powder, and the odd rituals that take over every grocer…
Send us a text You know that moment when a new sound hits and your brain says, “Wait, why hasn’t this existed forever?” That was us discovering country metal. We stumbled into Cody Parks and The Dirty South and found a blend that keeps country’s storytelling soul while borrowing the horsepower of 8…
Send us a text The rain is steady, the porch is alive, and season three kicks off with our favorite kind of chaos: honest laughs, sharp pivots, and a plan to make this the most personal run yet. We start with football—bye weeks, “easy” schedules, and the odd hangover of overseas games—then acknowle…