This week, the boys are finally back and up to all their nasty old tricks. Mike considers the ethics of taxing a dog, Michael locks his smartphone forever, and Jesus tells us the new wages of sin. Hint: it's poop.
This week, the boys confront the profoundly grim reality of the Toy Story universe. Michael gets rock-hard abs, Mike confronts his greatest fears, and we all worry about Ant-Man’s current whereabouts. It’s our best yet.
This week, the boys get a whiff of a new dimension. Amanda stops by to talk Game of Thrones merch, Michael goes to the nasty movies, and Mike poops a dragon. We all get breakfast from Tom Hiddleston.
This week, J.K. Rowling reveals our greatest secrets – turns out it's just that we're both ready for Ron Weasley erotica. Mike gets grossly excited for Irish Fleet Week, Michael claims the left side of the bed, and we all are indicted for high bagel crimes. It's our best yet.
This week, the third Good Buddy joins us as things get a little fishy. Michael tries to erase his memories, Mike slanders the good name of currywurst, and we all take a trip to the chocolate fountain. No, not like that. Stop being gross.
This week, the boys cut their teeth on a new parade. Mike goes for a walk on the moon, Michael puts the lotion in the basket, and we all get them digits.
This week, the boys go hunting Bigfoot with Jose Canseco. Michael pops a very sweet fetish into his mouth, Mike ponders the existential dread of parking enforcement, and we all ignite our lightsabers to shave off some pencil-thin mustaches. It's our best yet.
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This week, the boys talk about cookies and Scooby Doo for about 30 minutes. Curtis returns to bring us back to our first encounters with adult films, Mike reveals too much, and Michael makes a joke we all miss.
This week, the boys settle their sweet cheeks upon the comforting cradle of technology. Mike reveals dark family secrets, Michael gets really into Toddlervision, and we all swoon over everyone's favorite #mcm: Michael Cohen. It's our best yet.
This week, the boys are forced to ask: hey men, y'all OK? Mike shoots up some literally toxic masculinity, Michael waters the flowers of love, and PETA misses the whole damn point. We all chug some Pringle Noir and howl at the super blood wolf moon.