Welcome to episode 24. This week, Ed and Eric attempt to distract you, however brief, from the mess that permeates just outside the four walls of your perfect little apartment. To do so, they bring on returning guest Bryan Stabbe who insists on bringing controversy into the sweet warm comfort of crunchy corner. The three discuss walks, dreams, relationships and yeast. See you on the next one.       Next episode’s homework: find some peace     Listen to more of The Front Bottoms on Spotify and Apple Music   Follow us on twitter @whatsthehwpod Follow us on instagram @whatsthehwpod

Welcome to episode 23. This week, Ed and Eric stick their dirty, uneducated paws into politics but somehow escape with all their limbs intact and available to knead some doughy discussion of baking, pandemics, princes and toads. See you on the next one.   Next episode’s homework: go somewhere new with a friend   Listen to more of The Front Bottoms on Spotify and Apple Music   Follow us on twitter @whatsthehwpod Follow us on instagram @whatsthehwpod

Welcome to episode 22. This week, Ed and Eric are finally back after a long hiatus. They’ve almost certainly lost some old listeners along the way but are happy to see some fresh new faces in the audience. During the break, Eric got married, the president was impeached and Ed got a new pair of socks. See you on the next one.       Next episode’s homework: bake something     Listen to more of The Front Bottoms on Spotify and Apple Music   Follow us on twitter @whatsthehwpod Follow us on instagram @whatsthehwpod

Welcome to episode 21. This week, Ed and Eric are sad and alone and in the mood to talk about feelings. Anxiety at work. Stress of poverty (even if it’s just a game). Disappointing your fans. Eric brings an unfortunate Combo to crunchy corner and they close out with some advice for our president and his weather problem. See you on the next one.       Next episode’s homework: break bread with Paul and Prue     Listen to more of The Front Bottoms on Spotify and Apple Music   Follow us on twitter @whatsthehwpod Follow us on instagram @whatsthehwpod

Welcome to episode 20. This week, Ed and Eric are joined by Rob to discuss all things Bachelor, specifically the season premier of Bachelor in Paradise. Ed seamlessly transitions to a crunchy corner double feature and they wrap things up with a pretty EDiquette bowtie. See you on the next one.       Next episode’s homework: daily journal     Listen to more of The Front Bottoms on Spotify and Apple Music   Follow us on twitter @whatsthehwpod Follow us on instagram @whatsthehwpod

Welcome to episode 19. This week, Ed and Eric are joined by Catie again to discuss Kristen Bell as the next super hero, nerd out about Marvel IP and the science behind the future of meat, and of course bring you a double feature crunchy corner with some newly remodeled EDiquette to end the show. See you on the next one.  next episode’s homework: bachelor in paradise   Listen to more of The Front Bottoms on Spotify and Apple Music Follow us on twitter @whatsthehwpod

Welcome to episode 18. This week, Ed and Eric attempt to learn the dark arts, Eric brings the crunch for a contender in the golden crunch club and the two then take a test to determine how strong their friendship is and wrap up with a look back on Kanye West’s Yeezus. See you on the next one.    Become a magician  Ta-Nehisi Coates on Kanye Lou Reed reviews Yeezus    next episode’s homework: eat the future     Listen to more of The Front Bottoms on Spotify and Apple Music   Follow us on twitter @whatsthehwpod

Welcome to episode 17. This week, Ed and Eric are joined by Bryan again to discuss Apple and privacy, Tim Robinson’s I Think You Should Leave, a spectacular Crunchy Corner, the long history of Ed splitting his pants and a thought provoking etiquette segment. See you on the next one.  Next episode’s homework: do some magic   Listen to more of The Front Bottoms on Spotify and Apple Music Follow us on twitter @whatsthehwpod

Welcome to episode 15. This week, Ed and Eric are joined by Colin to attempt some coding, something neither host has ever done before. One of them fails and the other cheats. See you on the next one.      Next episode’s homework: watch Our Planet     Listen to more of The Front Bottoms on Spotify and Apple Music   Follow us on twitter @whatsthehwpod

Welcome to episode 15. This week, Ed and Eric are joined by Sydney to read and discuss poetry, starting with Silvia Plath’s “Daddy,” a poem that is definitely not about the war Bryan! The episode hearkens back to the lost Hannah Gadsby episode but is different in that it’s actually good. Poems are copy and pasted below to follow along! See you on the next one.      Next week’s homework: learn to code     Listen to more of The Front Bottoms on Spotify and Apple Music   Follow us on twitter @whatsthehwpod   ————   Daddy BY SYLVIA PLATH   You do not do, you do not do    Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot    For thirty years, poor and white,    Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.   Daddy, I have had to kill you.    You died before I had time—— Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,    Ghastly statue with one gray toe    Big as a Frisco seal   And a head in the freakish Atlantic    Where it pours bean green over blue    In the waters off beautiful Nauset.    I used to pray to recover you. Ach, du.   In the German tongue, in the Polish town    Scraped flat by the roller Of wars, wars, wars. But the name of the town is common.    My Polack friend   Says there are a dozen or two.    So I never could tell where you    Put your foot, your root, I never could talk to you. The tongue stuck in my jaw.   It stuck in a barb wire snare.    Ich, ich, ich, ich, I could hardly speak. I thought every German was you.    And the language obscene   An engine, an engine Chuffing me off like a Jew. A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.    I began to talk like a Jew. I think I may well be a Jew.   The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna    Are not very pure or true. With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck    And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack I may be a bit of a Jew.   I have always been scared of you, With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.    And your neat mustache And your Aryan eye, bright blue. Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You——   Not God but a swastika So black no sky could squeak through.    Every woman adores a Fascist,    The boot in the face, the brute    Brute heart of a brute like you.   You stand at the blackboard, daddy,    In the picture I have of you, A cleft in your chin instead of your foot    But no less a devil for that, no not    Any less the black man who   Bit my pretty red heart in two. I was ten when they buried you.    At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do.   But they pulled me out of the sack,    And they stuck me together with glue.    And then I knew what to do. I made a model of you, A man in black with a Meinkampf look   And a love of the rack and the screw.    And I said I do, I do. So daddy, I’m finally through. The black telephone’s off at the root,    The voices just can’t worm through.   If I’ve killed one man, I’ve killed two—— The vampire who said he was you    And drank my blood for a year, Seven years, if you want to know. Daddy, you can lie back now.   There’s a stake in your fat black heart    And the villagers never liked you. They are dancing and stamping on you.    They always knew it was you. Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through.     Sylvia Plath, “Daddy” from Collected Poems. Copyright © 1960, 1965, 1971, 1981 by the Estate of Sylvia Plath. Editorial matter copyright © 1981 by Ted Hughes. Used by permission of HarperCollins Publishers.   ————   Those Winter Sundays BY ROBERT HAYDEN   Sundays too my father got up early and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold, then with cracked hands that ached from labor in the weekday weather made banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.   I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking. When the rooms were warm, he’d call, and slowly I would rise and dress, fearing the chronic angers of that house,   Speaking indifferently to him, who had driven out the cold and polished my good shoes as well. What did I know, what did I know of love’s austere and lonely offices?     Robert H