The Burt Selleck Podcast

John discovers a new form of violence that leaves no bruises, Alex tries to figure out how anyone knows it’s the same whale, and we spend an unreasonable amount of time deciding which animals are gay. We also get into animal tracking, God’s one forbidden apple, whale evolution, funeral plans, King Tut’s podcast studio, and why foxes are apparently the gayest animal alive. Plus, Alex explains coding while John confidently explains it back to him completely wrong.

We’re back after a couple weeks off, and somehow the conversation immediately turns into Hedonism II, buffet crab legs, DoxyPEP, and whether or not everyone in the room deserves equal access to the three lions. John’s sternum is apparently in a delicate transitional phase, which leads us to discover that Daddy Is Molting. From there we get into gumbo, sourdough starters, baby rabbits, deadly household pets, and the exact amount of soul an animal needs before humans are allowed to race it. We also talk Lions, Jerry Springer, childhood injuries, scumbag stories, Steve Irwin vengeance, and why context is extremely important when somebody tells you they got stabbed through the hand with a screwdriver.

Nick gets back from Peoria and somehow a conversation about hotel soap turns into a full breakdown of terrible motels, backwards shower handles, sleeping on the beach, and the weird little things you notice when you stay somewhere that maybe costs a little too little. We also get into spring break stories, Florida being Florida, Australia, fantasy football, Jared Goff, the Lions, and why the first few weeks of the NFL season apparently don’t count if things are going badly. Plus, Nick tries to use a cold shower as leverage for a late checkout, which honestly feels like a pretty good summary of the whole episode.

John no-calls, no-shows this week, leaving Alex and Nick to hold down the job like the dedicated employees they apparently are. Naturally, they spend the opening minutes discussing disciplinary action, John’s importance to the Lions, and whether his absence could have altered the outcome of the game. From there, they discover the seventh human sense, debate how much performance actually matters in stand-up, discuss gay telepathy, crimes they’d commit in a world without cameras, why Spain is just worse Mexico, and the surprisingly complicated social rules of cruising. Plus: sexomnia, bathhouse etiquette, Betamax, nosebleeds, eating too fast, Nick’s childhood hockey humiliation, and the possibility that his friend Doug may secretly be the Michigan Dogman.

Alex and John realize podcasting may be the perfect art form for people whose work won’t become valuable until after they die, which naturally leads to a proposed rebrand: The Edgar Allan POdcast. The plan involves a raven, a complete lack of respect for the original concept, and possibly replacing Nick altogether. Before that revelation, they recap a miserable Michigan game-watching experience involving bad music, an aggressively negative fan, Rod Stewart, and some questionable theories about the people sitting at the bar. Also: gay sailor tattoos, veganism, manifestation, Mario family history, tornado warnings, Tom Hardy secretly having bars, and Labrador Day.

Ian’s back in town, which means the Burt Selleck Podcast immediately gets dragged into stories about Washington wildfires, cougars, jail schools, bald eagles, Lions roster cuts, and whether GTA 6 is about to accidentally create its own economy. From there, the boys get into wild game, elite meatloaf technique, toilet-brewed hooch, music festival survival, and the very specific physical challenges that can arise during certain adult activities. Naturally, this all leads to an important discussion about romance, manners, and the evolving definition of being a gentleman. Chivalry isn’t dead. It’s just gotten significantly weirder.

This week, the mysterious power of Alex’s three-monitor lion setup finally gets a name: Tres Leones . A driver update briefly threatens the pride, Nick and John immediately notice the shift in energy, and a completely unnecessary argument breaks out over whether all three lions were technically there the whole time. Elsewhere, the guys get into getting kicked out of the DMT realm, Fred Flintstone committing golf-course crimes, ancient Greek enemas, weaponized farts, Marines with frog voices, and whether being a five-star recruit means you should just go play football in Hawaii. There’s also plenty of Lions, Michigan, Ohio State, China, Shaq, and a proposed military training program run entirely by mean drag queens.

Nick walks a table after getting into it with a veteran, then accidentally hustles a Canadian poker game after spending half the night pretending he knew what the chip colors meant. The guys also get into childhood names they wished they had, growing up in wildly different Michigan high schools, why Cranbrook was fun to beat, and which historical era each of them would have thrived in.

The boys head out to The Mild West, where the Wild West gets reimagined as a place with classy brothels, rich uncles, questionable frontier politics, and Alex making it approximately as far as St. Louis before deciding civilization is good enough. Also this week: Lions trash talk, the strange economics of sports radio, rich gay couples, counterfeit Yeezys, aliens who crossed the galaxy because they can’t make ice cream, and the ongoing search for the smartest person alive.

The guys open with a deeply unsuccessful moment of silence before trying to figure out how sound escapes a black hole, what should be thrown into one, and whether the universe eventually snaps back like an old birthday balloon. From there, the conversation wanders through legendary Metro Detroit beavers, fantasy football addiction, NFL players identified entirely by their knees, sumo wrestlers on the offensive line, and the tactical advantages of a sleep dick. Then Michael Jackson, music biopics, blind people explaining colors, private investigators, and one extremely ill-advised game of human foosball all collide in the idea that gives the episode its title: no spinnies.

The gang looks back on the final night of the Independent Comedy Club, including who stayed until sunrise, who nearly fell asleep driving home, and who ended the evening listening to Chinese sleep music on a couch. From there, John launches several confidently questionable history lessons while everyone debates 9/11 coverage, mutual combat laws, data centers, and whether Batman could survive a tiger, cocaine bear, or Komodo dragon. There’s also elaborate Halloween costumes, seasonal male horniness, a hooker-assisted cat rescue, Alex’s legendary pimp chase story, and the creation of a new podcast nobody asked for: Dan Carlen with John Mahar .

Nick introduces Mr. Crinkle, the tall, smiling creature who lives in the closet, follows you with his eyes and spends the night making unsettling noises with wrapping paper. Naturally, the guys immediately consider making him the official mascot of Boz-Vision. Before that, they debate whether Wi-Fi is light, build several unnecessary Major League Baseball teams, rank Michigan hot dogs and learn that Alex’s homemade television network cannot survive the awesome power of 10-bit video. They also say goodbye to the Independent Comedy Club and remember the nights when the hang lasted until four in the morning.

The boys kick things off by arguing over Kendrick, Drake, aging into bad music, and whether becoming an adult means surrendering your taste to “Jack & Diane.” From there, a Tigers game turns into a full investigation of stadium waves, baseball heckling, bullpen toys, and the lawless physics of the Silverdome. They also get into gay bars, tattoos delivered by aliens, missing frogs, rich people buying young blood, questionable wellness routines, and the logistics of identifying breast milk like a wine tasting. Eventually, Alex considers a run for small-town mayor before realizing his Body Zone history would immediately transform him into The Bozodiac Killer.

Alex unveils his homemade cable network, complete with custom channels, vintage commercials, and enough legally obtained media to avoid making another entertainment decision for the rest of his life. Naturally, John and Nick immediately begin renaming the operation, and Boz Turner Media is born. From there, the conversation wanders through funeral processions gone horribly wrong, suspicious bathhouse business practices, old men reading newspapers, Detroit sports media, and the particular kind of dumb guy Alex prefers.

The guys invent a whole new economy where human waste becomes legal tender, government cheese becomes an investment strategy, and Alex has to explain why the entire system would still collapse into corruption. From there, they move on to fake lakes, doomed bridges, modular homes, alligator escape plans, football dads, old men working grocery jobs, and the emotional weight of Barry Sanders handing the ball to the ref. They also get into AI thirst traps, chewing your own mustache, peeping neighbors, Friends being full of creeps, and the important question of whether a mobile home becomes a home only after it puts down roots.

The guys celebrate Daddy Day, discuss funeral-home snack expectations, and figure out whether getting old is the perfect time to start committing crimes. Alex breaks down the strangest parts of Dragon Ball Z, everyone argues about how The Matrix works, and the conversation turns into an elaborate plan to skateboard across America’s most famous monuments. They also talk custom TV channels, comedy bingo, violent hiccups, eating contests, and the soothing power of the devil’s balm.

Alex thinks he’s spotted a lynx on the ride home, but the gang decides it was probably just a skinny fox— which somehow turns into ranking the “most cat-like dog” and “most dog-like cat.” From there they wander into lion dating problems, pack tactics, and whether you could actually out-run a bobcat on an average Tuesday. Halfway through, John drops the fact that certain whales have an honest-to-goodness bone in their junk—something sailors once used as coffee stirrers. Cue fifteen minutes of narwhal cafés, sub implosions, and why nobody should make a deep-sea vessel out of carbon fiber. Things wrap with summer show plugs, and John wondering if a lanyard chain for his glasses counts as “two chains, one cup.” It’s exactly the kind of loose, late-night hang where animal trivia meets trench-war jokes and somehow makes sense.

The guys dig into the latest UFO files and try to determine why some of the footage is redacted, whether aliens created humanity, and if Earth is just the intergalactic equivalent of an empty parking lot. They also talk NBA dream teams, Kobe Bryant, Paul Pierce’s most infamous conspiracy, celebrity politics, terrible streaming services, and why Schoolhouse Rock may have secretly been a Jack Black movie. Plus, infrared farts, alien soul harvesting, unsafe lighthouse enthusiasm, and several confident theories that should never be presented to Congress.

This week, the boys investigate the mysteries of third mic energy, Mario Kart justice, childhood sports trauma, and whether a backyard curveball can technically qualify as a UFO. Alex, John, and Nick spiral from Detroit Grand Prix pit suites into Whirly Ball, football instincts, hip-hop debut albums, peanut butter and jelly economics, and the deeply important question of whether a glowing baseball over a Michigan lake is government evidence. It’s an episode about friendship, athletic failure, alien physics, and the kind of conversations that start with baseball and end somewhere near war.gov/UFOs.

The boys kick things off by getting deeply suspicious about comedy fashion, Tubi prestige, leopard print sabotage, and the possibility of a poor Batman whose cave is somewhere under suburban Michigan. From there, things slide beautifully downhill into Black Flash heckle powers, alien scout theories, ancient UFO factories, and the ongoing question of whether Earth is being evaluated by space beings with very low expectations. There’s also a lot of Detroit sports grieving, Lions optimism, nail-bed analysis, Steve Irwin respect, turtle meat science, Brazilian steakhouses, and the kind of movie pitch that should probably never leave the room but absolutely does. Somehow, the conversation also finds time for Movement memories, Victorian DJs, Prince Albert logistics, bridge-jumping confidence, and why potholes remain one of Michigan’s most personal betrayals.