Jack Black shared that he was unaware of who his musical counterpart would be for the SNL episode until he received a call from Jack White. Black recalled, 'He was like, 'What do you think, should we do this SNL thing?' I was like, 'What are you talking about?' And he was like, 'Wait, they didn't tell you?' I was like, 'No, you're going to be the musical guest?'
This season on 'Deli Boys,' the Dars are drowning in dirty cash and Philly's sketchiest crooks are circling. Enter Max Sugar: casino king, money launderer, and Lucky's new crush who turns laundering into a chaotic situationship.
He is, without doubt, the cleverest host they've had in years, and probably the funniest too. Who else could recreate the famous chase sequence from Weapons - the freakiest horror of 2025 - with the same madcap energy and wit, and not have it be the cringiest sketch of awards season?
The discoverability problem is that the medium still hasn't figured out a reliable, easily reproducible way to capture and hold a listener's attention. It's easier to stumble upon video curated and served via algorithm than it is to click several buttons in a dedicated app in order to listen to a piece of audio.
A woman's relationship with Trader Joe's is abstract. It's like the way women see Trader Joe's, it's the way the aliens from 'Arrival' view time. Unlike most men—who make a beeline straight for the same blue-corn tortilla chips that have been there since pre-Obama—women swan dreamily through the store, guided by their foremothers toward the strangest possible products.
This is not acceptable. Mocking a disability is never acceptable. It would not be tolerated for any other condition, and it should not be tolerated by people with Tourette's.
The video podcast will release episodes weekly, beginning January 30 at 12:01 a.m. PT. Each episode will feature a "candid, no-holds-barred" conversation between Davidson and a pal that takes place in his garage, per Netflix. "Netflix was the home of one of my first stand-up specials," Davidson said in a statement, "so it felt right to bring the podcast there, too. It's me and my friends talking about anything and everything. It's going to be a great time."
No one could accuse Fleming of tailoring his act to please a conventional audience. His stage attire lies somewhere between "androgynous hipster" and "clown," and his only criteria for a premise appears to be "What does my brain fixate on?" He expects his audience to keep up with any cultural reference his Massachusetts-born, millennial, Skidmore arts-graduate brain might make without ever stopping to explain what, say, "Gatsby-esque" might mean in the context of Bitmoji.
Davidson's debut episode, featuring Machine Gun Kelly, is assembled from the rough, requisite symbols of podcasting: host and guest sunk into plush, beat-up chairs vaguely facing each other, chatting and smoking cigarettes in a space that's presented as Davidson's garage, Benjamin Moore paint tubs doubling as an ashtray stand. Good pals, their conversation is loose and circuitous; their discussion drifts from adventures while getting high, stints in rehab, and - because this is the first episode - what a podcast even is.
I know no one is dying for a hot take on this from a guy who looks like he was homeschooled on a yacht, said the comedian, who was wearing a long-sleeved Wolves shirt. But it would be insane to ignore what's happening in my hometown right now. He then dissected footage of an ICE agent slipping on the ice, showing it over and over again. I'm not reveling in another person's pain, he said. If I wanted to do that, I would join ICE.
