Journey Deeper Into The Humid, Horny Wasteland Of Spagate

There was never a firm or formal plan for Drew and me to do this entire Deadcast in our hideous groaning froggy Robert Kraft voices, but I would be lying to you if I said that the prospect was not discussed. At some length, if I am going to continue being honest, and with some seriousness. But for your sake and ours, and because the fascinating and lurid and weird the broader Spagate situation deserves something a little less assaultive to the ears, we opted to have on Deadspin’s own Florida-knower-in-residence and journalistic sensei Diana Moskovitz to explain a little bit about both how our reporting on, uh, all this shit came together and to parse out the subtler depravities of the whole gross thing. It’s not exactly serious—this is still a story about a famous and tragically horny septuagenarian—but if you were wondering about our process on stories like this, you will learn about that here.

And if you weren’t wondering, you can feel free to skip right on ahead to the dumb shit, which is right where it usually is. In an unusually leisurely stroll through the Funbag, we considered various outcomes for Le’Veon Bell’s future, assessed the sneaky terrors of international plane travel and made a surprising discovery about Diana’s geographical acumen, and debated whether anyone actually needs fajitas in the year 2019. I did say the words “fajitas are canceled,” but only because I wanted to see if I could do it. It turned out I could!

One last note: this week’s Trump Question Of The Week was so disgusting that it broke the podcast. It was effectively unanswerable, and opened onto a bottomless horror that changed all of us irrevocably. I’d apologize for it, but I’m not the one who asked it. I’m just another person that has to live with having thought about it.

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