becoming friends with...lost highway

Wet Butts, Vinyl Dust & Lynchian Loops

Before things get dark and dreamy with Lost Highway, the crew takes a long, weird walk through Record Store Day—full of slippery nostalgia, mysterious green vinyl, and just a hint of haze in the air.

There’s talk of swampy music videos, Post Malone being crowned record store wizard, and a heated debate over why no one pressed Monster Magnet on 4/20. Adam Sandler’s cassette tapes make a triumphant return, complete with big, hairy balls monologues. Someone might’ve even been duct-taped in a music store bathroom. Allegedly?

Eventually, they veer off into David Lynch territory—but not before flipping through jazz records, marveling at cosmic album art, and lovingly roasting the absurdity of it all.

🚨 Side effects may include: spontaneous giggling, unexplained cravings for vintage stereo equipment, and a vague sense that time isn't real.

Lynch, Loops & Losing Your Mind…Am I Watching a Movie or Having a Psychic Break?!!!??!

Three dudes. One Lynch film. Infinite confusion. This week, the boys accidentally watched Inland Empire and now they’re not sure if they’re still in it. What starts as a David Lynch discussion quickly dissolves into a full-blown metaphysical panic attack—screaming Laura Dern faces, cursed rabbit sitcoms, and at least one semi-serious theory involving Polish ghosts and haunted camcorders…all leaving the boys wondering if they’re all just characters in someone else's Inland Empire?

But first, there’s an hour of beautifully unhinged warm-up. The gang drifts through aging stoner reflections, weird body pains, local TV fever dreams, and snack-based existentialism. A mysterious VHS tape resurfaces—familiar to all, though no one recalls renting it… or returning it. Reality starts to wobble before Lynch even shows up.

Eventually, they tackle the film. They try to track the story, talk Lynch’s digital grime obsession, and praise Laura Dern for holding the whole surreal mess together with sheer force of will. But the deeper they go, the more unglued things get—time loops, emotional spirals, and Chris possibly merging with a lamp.

If you’ve ever found yourself barefoot in a dream version of your own house, holding a remote that doesn’t work while a woman sobs on TV and a laugh track echoes from nowhere—this episode’s for you. Press play, light up, and hope you come out the other side. It’s maddening, hypnotic, borderline nonsense—but it sticks with you. Wait…is that about this episode or the movie? You tell me, Bucky.

Deep Vibes, Dream Logic & Flaming Nips

This episode finds Rene, Byron & Chris—your favorite philosophically-inclined couch surfers—falling headfirst into David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive. Expect hazy dream logic, espresso-fueled mobsters, voyeur limos, and the mystical terror of the “blue key,” all filtered through that slightly-baked lens where everything means... something?

In between Lynch spirals, the crew spirals into stoner-friendly side quests: 90s TV like NewsRadio, old SNL weirdos, The Dark Crystal's puppet-induced paranoia, and Fire in the Sky (aka the ultimate “don’t get abducted while high” movie). AI chaos hits hard too, including a cursed image of Jeff commanding a robot army, nips ablaze—and trip out over the Costco Bros becoming Ow My Balls in real time.

It’s a loose, loopy, laugh-heavy trip that somehow ties back to Lynch’s dream logic and Hollywood nightmares. Classic baked chaos.

'Three aging stoners stumble their way into David Lynch’s “Blue Velvet”… eventually.'

In this wildly off-the-rails episode of becoming friends with..., Byron and Rene (both skeptical former film majors) welcome new friend Chris for a hilarious deep-dive that’s equal parts Lynchian cinema, VHS store nostalgia, bizarre high school stories, and chaotic reality TV takes. From Flavor of Love bathroom disasters to passionate defenses of the Gin Blossoms, it’s like hanging out with old friends who get high and accidentally forget they’re recording a podcast. It’s funny, weirdly touching, and surprisingly insightful — a must-listen if you’ve ever loved David Lynch, loathed film school snobs, or just miss talking movies in the video store parking lot.