Podcast Episode: Darkly Comic Throwbacks And Schemes

Pip: My Mind, My Mood, My delicately poisoned pen — where the archive runs back to 2012 and the wit runs sharp enough to leave a mark.

Mara: Today we’re covering work from THEORIGINALRUDELYRAW across three territories: throwback posts surfacing older writing, the messy theater of modern dating and manipulation, and the particular satisfaction of choosing plants over prison.

Pip: Let’s start with the archive digs.

Digging Through the Archive

Mara: The Tuesday Throwback post is exactly what it sounds like — a curated window back into older work, surfacing titles like “Ethos, Pathos and Logos Walk Into a Tiki Bar,” “39 nights and 40 days,” and “Misery is a Faithful Fuck,” among many others spanning years of output.

Pip: That’s a deep catalog. Titles alone read like a mood board for someone who processes everything through language first and sleep second.

Mara: The WILD Throwback does the same work from a different angle, pointing back to a 2019 piece called “The Gold That Survived the Dumpster Fire” — which, as a title, earns its keep.

Pip: Both posts are essentially invitations to go spelunking in a decade-plus archive. The real content is what they point to, not what they say.

Mara: Which means the throwbacks function as a kind of living index — and the next episode could surface anything from that catalog. Speaking of surfacing things better left buried, let’s talk dating.

The Toodle Pip Maneuver and the Art of Controlled Chaos

Pip: The post “Lollygagging Don’t Mean That, You Horny Heathen” opens the dating territory in an unexpected place — not with romance but with mortality and attention as currency.

Mara: The framing is direct: “that’s the only hit you’re getting off me you little attention giving freak! Thank you for the light on this corner of the internet, buddy, It gets me all charged up and creativity oozes everywhere and I’m too sticky to think.”

Pip: So attention is the fuel, and the post knows it’s performing that dynamic even while naming it. That’s a tidy little trap to walk the reader into.

Mara: The Toodle Pip Maneuver takes that dynamic and builds a full architecture around it. It’s written as step-by-step instructions for running a three-year psychological operation on a narcissist — download the app, pick the specific type, set the conditions, then wait.

Pip: “He never knew his path was designed and still doesn’t.” That line is doing a lot of work.

Mara: What it means in practice is that the post reframes the entire encounter — the date, the blocking, the years of silence — as a deliberate system, not a wound. The subject’s return via WhatsApp isn’t a surprise; it’s the predicted outcome.

Pip: The shirt with the shark on it is load-bearing, apparently. Non-negotiable to the plan.

Mara: The third piece in this territory, Orca Bones, pulls back to something more elemental — a refusal to let age become an excuse to stop living fully. “I want it to be as a motherfucking GOAT” is the closing note. It’s about staying the apex predator in your own story, which connects directly to the Toodle Pip logic.

Pip: All three posts are circling the same question: who actually holds the power in any given exchange? From there, the answer gets considerably more horticultural.

Gardening Because Murder Is Wrong

Mara: The Gardening post is a date-night autopsy. The subject — who called himself a wyvern on a dating app — lied about his height, had two kids, didn’t wash his legs, and made a playlist with her name on it that he then turned down so she’d listen to him instead.

Pip: A man who builds a personalized playlist and then mutes it to talk about his existential crisis deserves whatever botanical fate awaits him.

Mara: The line that lands hardest is: “I said that’s manipulative out loud and laughed.” She clocked it, named it, and kept going — not out of interest but out of curiosity about whether that was the only non-truth.

Pip: It was not the only non-truth. Spoiler: the shingles timeline also did not hold up to scrutiny.

Mara: The post ends with her son’s Mother’s Day gift — a metal placard reading “Gardening because murder is wrong” — and her note that it’s a trait he obviously inherited. The violence is entirely metaphorical. The plants, however, are real and have different watering schedules.

Pip: Three posts, one throughline: know your worth, know your archive, and know when to block someone from yet another platform.

Mara: The appetite here is for honesty — about desire, about history, about what you’ll actually tolerate. That doesn’t go stale.

Pip: Same time next week, same poisoned pen.

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