In this episode, Bootstuck checks off another major cultural milestone after finally finishing Who’s the Boss—though it takes some time to determine whether the title refers to the vacuum man, the working woman, or the elderly authority figure who “likes a lot of sex and tells everybody what to do.” Confident they’ve solved it, the group prepares to move on to Perfect Strangers, pluralized for safety.

The conversation shifts to springtime and snow removal, which in Bootstuck does not involve shovels, blowers, or common sense. Instead, Caleb has been personally eliminating the snow by warming it in his hands and blowing on it until it turns to water. This method is defended as both scientific and superior, since shovels only relocate snow and create “bigger piles,” which solves nothing.

From there, the episode detours into one of Bootstuck’s most important information systems: the social media flyer. Rather than being printed locally, the flyer simply blows into town—preferably as a double-pager—and is mounted on Bill’s board for communal reading. Its contents are loosely interpreted, sometimes invented, and then loudly explained to anyone nearby. This is how Bootstuck learns about hardware sales, global weather events, rumored Britney Spears concerts, and—most urgently—the approaching blueberry season.

As the interviewer slowly realizes these flyers may just be newspapers drifting in from Somewhere Else, distance itself becomes questionable, measured not in miles but in “sixteen songs and a cigarette.” By the end of the tape, Bootstuck remains proudly informed, wildly inaccurate, and fully dependent on the wind to keep them up to date.

Send us a text

www.bootstuck.com

The episode opens with a chaotic voicemail and quickly spirals into a very Bootstuck conversation about frozen rivers, rubber-banding birds to make them quieter, and the town’s proudly nonsensical “fish maze.” As the caller tries (and fails) to get a coherent answer from Bootstuck’s resident rambler, the discussion veers into Valentine’s Day preparations, including a contest involving hearts hidden around town — some carved, some hung, some written in the snow in ways that probably shouldn’t be encouraged.

In the middle of this already-crumbling dialogue, the caller learns that Bootstuck is preparing for a major celebrity arrival: the pop artist Lorde, who they believe is visiting the township next week. The town is scrambling to “Jimmy up” the billboard in her honor, though no one seems certain who Jimmy is, where Bill went, or why any of this is happening. As the confusion deepens — involving a 14-foot door that scares rabbits and the mystery of “holes in the wall near your knees” — the call ends the only way Bootstuck calls ever can: suddenly, chaotically, and with the caller begging for it to stop.

Send us a text

www.bootstuck.com

This tape begins as an attempt to discuss traffic conditions in Bootstuck and immediately collapses into a strange meditation on Dave’s “back 40,” which turns out not to be land at all, but a graveyard of empty bottles and 14 immobile cars. Before the conversation can gain any structure, Jonathan Frakes drunkenly bursts into the recording, mutters something unintelligible, and disappears—an event the Bootstuck resident barely acknowledges before resuming his ramble. From there, the narrator is dragged through a baffling tour of Bootstuck infrastructure: snow-rubbing for warmth, a DIY sewage system powered by four milkshake straws, and a workforce consisting almost entirely of one overburdened and exploding Caleb. The transcript ends on a chillingly casual promise that another plane crash would really help boost local commerce.

Send us a text

www.bootstuck.com

In this tape, two residents attempt to solve problems they clearly do not understand, beginning with the collapse of the township’s food supply and spiraling into Dave’s catastrophic “shed incident” involving a porcupine, several gallons of maple syrup, and far too much confidence. What follows is a wandering, deeply unhelpful conversation covering toilet paper hoarding, black licorice optimism, dangerous transportation ideas, and a revolutionary invention meant to help men fake childbirth empathy. As usual, nothing is resolved and everything somehow gets worse.

Send us a text

www.bootstuck.com

This tape opens with what sounds like a cheap local radio ad for World of Bowling — a chaotic pitch about “hard or soft balls” that fades into a conversation so derailed it feels like a hallucination in real time. The interviewer tries to talk about bowling, but in Bootstuck, “bowling” apparently involves rolling people down a hill and occasionally throwing Caleb at the problem.

From there, the discussion drifts through roosters in boxes, gardens full of “purple kush lilacs,” and the revelation that Bootstuck’s solution to its drug problem was to simply give everyone the drugs. The town is reportedly “under wraps,” which seems to mean “hallucinating together.” Soon, people are catching stars, walking on their hands, and opening metaphorical — and literal — “polka dot doors.”

By the time the tape winds down, reality itself begins to blur. A looping fragment of the conversation dissolves into a strange, hypnotic song — a patchwork of sampled voices, laughter, and background noise that feels like it’s being transmitted from inside a mushroom cloud. It’s impossible to tell where the music starts or the talking ends, but it evokes the unsettling, kaleidoscopic drift of Pink Floyd’s “Brain Damage.”

The result is one of Bootstuck’s most disorienting and strangely beautiful recordings — a descent into the township’s collective, psychedelic mind.

Send us a text

www.bootstuck.com

The tape begins with a voicemail — a jumble of static, mumbling, and the distinct sound of someone explaining how to “fix” a cassette with a pencil and a wiggle. From there, the conversation slides straight into Bootstuck logic: juice made from pinecones, acorns, and possibly corn itself.

Soon the townsfolk are preoccupied with a new community effort — putting up lost cat posters around town. The posters, placed two feet high so the missing feline might “see them,” are an act of optimism more than strategy. From there, talk turns to the township’s new “no passing” rule — not for vehicles, but for joints — and the alleged health benefits of mushroom gravy breakfasts.

The episode closes on a high-minded note as Bootstuck’s residents describe their scientific testing methods: paper, pencils, and a race down a hill to see whose “results” travel farthest. The conclusion? Science, like most things in Bootstuck, is mostly guesswork.

Send us a text

www.bootstuck.com

Bootstuck receives another baffling shipment — one that somehow contains blank coins with holes, six violins (or possibly chair parts), an unidentified handled object, and an alarming number of beans. Between coughing up a real frog mid-conversation and debating how to “screw violins together,” the townsfolk attempt to make sense of their new supplies. They even claim to have a refrigerator — though it doesn’t run and functions mostly as a bookshelf.

Somewhere between food safety and symphony, the group plans to teach the township how to identify edible mushrooms, a noble idea given how often everyone seems to be poisoned. The call ends with their usual abrupt sign-off ritual, and the faint sense that Bootstuck might just survive another day — on beans alone.

Send us a text

www.bootstuck.com

A confused caller accidentally goes live on the air and immediately loses his composure, setting the tone for another chaotic dispatch from Bootstuck. Between jam jars, smoke-filled air, and impromptu fire dances, the locals’ musical ambitions get derailed by missing spoons, homemade concerts, and a mysterious old man who may—or may not—have threatened someone’s life. When the tape recorder clicks on, we hear the chilling voice of a stranger offering a pocket rummage before the narrator bolts in panic and joy at once.

It’s unclear whether Bootstuck has been visited by danger, absurdity, or both—but one thing’s certain: someone’s got a pocket full of something, and it’s probably not candy.

Send us a text

www.bootstuck.com