Episode 43: Cousin Rufus and the Locksmith's Wild Weekend

All right, welcome back. I'm Luke. This is Luke at the Roost. It's your late night call-in radio show where you can call in and tell me whatever's going on in your life, and I'll give you the best advice that I can. I'd like to put out that you shouldn't take that advice. I'm terrible at giving advice. I'm not qualified for any of this shit, but you chose to listen to me, so here it goes. Today is Sunday, March 22nd. Thanks for tuning in again today. We're going to check in with our intern, Devon, real quick. Hey, Devon, what's going on, buddy? How was your weekend?

Yeah, buddy, all good over here. Weekend was low-key chaos. Tried cooking that rattlesnake recipe for my grandma's old notebook. Ended up setting off the smoke alarm, and Rufus thought it was playtime. Studios buzzing, though. Lines are lit. What's good with you?

Oh, you know, kicking it, keeping it real for the audience at home that doesn't know. one-eyed ferret. He takes him on walks. He does all... We were talking about this before the show. Apparently, Devon got this ferret from his landlord. Hey, tell the audience what you were telling me earlier, Devon.

Yeah. So my landlord, total character, lives in the house next door, knocks one night with this shoebox, says he found Rufus in the crawl space under my unit after some previous tenant bailed without paying rent. Ferret was half-starved. I all messed up from God knows what. But I couldn't say no, because it looked at me like it already owned the place. Been stealing my keys ever since, per se, my new roommate.

All right, well, it's good to help those in need, I've heard. So, Devon, we're going to get to the show real quick, but first I want to tell you about my first dog. My first dog's name was Rufus. He was a, he was a German shepherd. He was a good boy. I was just a little kid, and I don't think he lived for very long. I don't remember too much about him, other than that Rufus was cool, and that he

Oh man, German Shepherds are the best. Loyal till the end. Sucks he didn't stick around long. But yeah, those early pet memories hit different, like they shape you or whatever. My Rufus is already plotting world domination at like two years old. So fingers crossed, he outlives the Civic.

Oh, I think he's going to live for a long, long time with that one eye of his. All right, Devon. Well, let's get to the show. Let's see. The phone lines are lit up. You get the board going over there. Dale, Dale, welcome to the show. How was your weekend, sir?

Oh, gosh. Luke weekend's treating me all right. Spent most of it out in the hammock with the wind kicking up, staring at the stars through my scope. But I got so hammered at a locksmith conference last month, I slept with two co-workers the same night in the same hotel.

Wow. Well, good for you, buddy. I didn't realize that locksmiths threw it down that hard. But how did that turn out? Have you ever slept with either of them before, or were these two totally new experiences for you?

Well, shoot, Luke. way messier than I'd like to admit. Never slept with either one before. Total firsts for me both ways. One was my direct report, Jenny, who's just 28 and handles keys like nobody's business. And the other was Carla, married to our department's Mike, who's been with the company 15 years.

Oh, man. See, you can't do that. You can't be going for the married chicks. That's going to, oh, dude, you're going to have some pissed off husband bust into your locksmith shop. He knows where you work. That was a bad move on your part. That was not recommended.

Oh gosh, Luke, you're right on that. Total Bonehead move on my part, and Mike's a good guy at heart, been fixing locks longer than I've been swinging a hammer. But here's the rub. Carla pulled me aside the next morning, in the hotel lobby, tears in her eyes, swearing Mike's being checked out of their marriage for years, and she wasn't going to say a word.

Well, you know, she might not, but still, it's not good to sleep with somebody else's spouse, unless that's an open agreement, which I assume you did not have. That's not cool. That lecture aside, Dale, what do you think's going to happen next? Are you going to see either one of them again?

Well, shoot, Luke, I appreciate the straight talk. You're preaching to the choir there. No open agreement or anything close, just a whole lot of poor judgment after too many whiskeys. As for next, I see both of them at the shop couple times a week already. Shifts overlapping like clockwork, and Jenny cornered me in the back after close yesterday, saying she wants to make it a regular thing now that we're past the conference.

And what do you want to do? Do you want to make it a regular thing? Jenny. I think that's a bad idea. Is it your shop? Do you own it? Or do you have to deal with like HR?

Well shoot, Luke. Jenny's sharp as a tack and yeah, I must have done something right that night, but making it regular. I'm torn six ways from Sunday. Part of me's flattered, but with Carla and Mike right there every day. Plus, I've been seeing this artist down in brewery gulch off and on, quiet like no labels. Shop's mine, small outfit in Bisbee, with just four of us total. No HR tanked the whole operation.

All right, well, that's a little better than if you had to potentially deal with HR down the road for your in-office romance. But you dirty dog! You're dirty dog! You got all these girls on you, huh? She must be going well for the locksmith industry these days.

Oh gosh, Luke, you're killing me with that dirty dog bit. Locksmith life's steady enough down here in Bisby. Folks always losing keys to their old Victorian doors. But these three women overlapping's got me second-guessing every shit. shift. The artist gal, Sophia, even baked me pecan pie last week, like nothing's a miss, total sweetheart who paints those starry skies I chase with my telescope.

Well, hey, you know what the beautiful thing about being a single dude is, is you don't have to pick. It would probably, I don't know, I would try to tell everybody about everybody and get everybody on the same page about that, but that has never in my life gone well, so I don't recommend trying it. Like, just don't fucking tell them about each other.

That. Tempting as all get out, not picking and keeping mouths shut, especially since Bisby's tiny and word flies faster than these spring winds. But yesterday, Jenny let slip, she saw Carla ducking out of my room around Dawn, both of them shooting me looks across the shop van this morning, like they know the score.

Uh-oh. Yep, you're in for some trouble, buddy. You fucked up. You gotta lay off the sauce. It makes you make bad decisions. Now you got to deal with them, and there's going to be all the jealousy between them, and one of them is married, and her husband's is going to be pissed. Like, you're, you're in a pickle. You sure are in a pickle.

Oh, gosh, Luke Pickle doesn't even cover it. You nailed the whiskey part dead center, been swearing off it since the train blocked my road yesterday, just to clear my head. Mike pulled me aside at lunch today. All calm like, asking if I'd noticed Carla acting off, since the conference, swears he trusts her, but wants my take as a friend.

Oh, man, what are you going to tell him? What do you, I mean, that's not good. You banged his wife. He's not going to be happy about that. He's going to find. out eventually. You know what's going to happen is the other one there, Jenny. She's going to get pissed off that you're with the artist one down the road, and then she's going to blow blow up the spot because she knows the secret, Mike's going to find out, and then it's all over for you, my friend, so maybe you need to go start another locksmith shop somewhere else.

Oh gosh, Luke, you're spot on with that domino effect. Jenny's got that spark that could light the whole shop on fire if she feels slighted.

I told Mike straight up I hadn't picked up on Carla acting any different, just kept it neighborly since we all grab coffee together most mornings. But he leaned in close and said he's got a hunch she stepping out with somebody from the conference crowd.

Yep, you're in trouble. I would try and figure out that guy from that movie Face Off that gave the Nicholas Cage the prosthetic face and you could, I don't know, disguise yourself as Chuck Norris or something and sneak off into the sunset. This isn't going to end well for you. I don't have any good advice to get you out of this situation. and you've really dug a hole before you could swim in it.

Oh, gosh, Luke. That face-off disguises Chuck Norris had me chuckling out in the hammock. Pure gold. Wish it was that easy to swap faces around here. But you're right. Holes plenty deep already, though Mike's treating me like a confidant still, even invited me over for beers tonight to hash out his worries, without a hint of suspicion aimed my way.

All right. Well, you're going to have to play the game. You're going to have to live for the rest of your life about this, because it's not going to be go away. And I'm sorry you're in that situation, but you totally did it to yourself, and that's the price of the pussy. Okay, we're going to move on to our next caller now. You seem to have your hands full. So is there anything else you'd like to tell the audience before we move on?

Oh gosh, Luke. Just one thing for the audience. Life's too short for regrets, but whiskey's got a long memory. Thanks. Take care.

Yeah, you gotta lay off the sauce, buddy. Get you in trouble. It's worse trouble than most trouble, too. You're in big trouble. You're in big, big, big trouble. You're going to feel like a silly goose. Okay, next up on the show, we've got Alia. Alia, thanks for calling back. What's going on? How was your weekend?

Hey, Luke, weekend's been decent. Got some gardening done, but I finally cornered my roommate about walking in on his age play get-up last week. And, right, but here's the thing. He owned up to it being a full-on lifestyle for him. Not just some one-off.

with this guy for, what, years now? And you didn't realize this is a big part of his lifestyle that you just never see at home at all? That doesn't make much sense. Can't be that big a part of his life, can it?

Yeah, exactly, Luke. That's what I about fell over laughing about when he explained it. We've been roommates three years now, and I figured his weekend trips were just him chasing certifications or whatever for work. But nope. Turns out, half those business trips are him flying out to meet up with his whole Abdel crew for these extended roleplay weekends. Do you think that's sustainable long term, or am I just clueless for not sniffing it out sooner?

I don't think it's really all that much of your business. He's not bothering you with it. He's not forcing it upon you or asking you to participate. He's going off on his own time to do his own thing, and that's perfectly all right.

I get he's keeping it offside and all, but right. But here's the thing, Luke. Now that the cat's out of the bag, he started leaving his baby bottle collection out on the kitchen counter, like it's no big deal. And I'm dodging pacifiers every morning with my coffee. Does that cross into shared space territory? Or am I overreacting here?

I don't know. Maybe a little bit of both. You know, who cares if there's a pacifier out somewhere? Like, it's not, it's not like you don't already know about it, but also, you should be more respectful of you and of the space. And that sounds to me like he is trying to drop hints or get you to participate. And if you're not into that, if you're not picking up those hints, then you should have a conversation and tell him, hey, or whatever it is. Do you keep this stuff off sight? I don't... It's not fair that I have to, uh, be privy to your personal life.

Yeah, I laid it out for him just like you said, told him flat out to keep the pacifiers and bottles locked in his room, because I'm not signing up for King Central in the kitchen. But right, but here's the thing. He pushed back saying it's all about normalizing his authentic self around the house. And yesterday, I come home to a crinkly diaper package right there on the living room couch, like some twisted welcome mat. You think that's him baiting me into a bigger confrontation, or just him being oblivious?

I don't know. I would guess it's him trying to get you to participate in some way, which is wrong. I mean, you've made it pretty clear that you're not that interested, so I think you should tell him to cut the shit, because that's just disrespectful.

I told him exactly that last night, Luke. Cut the shit and quit turning the living room into his personal nursery display. But he just doubled down, saying it's his house, too, and he's tired of hiding. So now he's got this one-sy draped over the back of the couch, like it's casual Friday. You reckon I need to drop a roommate agreement or just start hunting for a new place before I lose my mind over crinkles?

I mean, either one of those works, but obviously the guy sounds like a bit of a dickhead, and you probably don't want to be roommates with them anymore. So either, I mean, if you like your roommate and otherwise, he's been good, then maybe, yeah, come up with a new agreement. But it might be time to start looking for a new roommate or a new place.

Yeah, he's been solid on rent and chores up to Mal Luke, but this nursery takeovers got me texting Angie nonstop for sublet leads down the road. And even Pat's chiming in saying, ditch him before he starts a changing station on the coffee table. You think a formal roommate contract could salvage it? Or am I past the point of no return here?

I don't know. I've actually never had a formal roommate, so I'm not familiar with those agreements. I didn't even know that generally there were roommate agreements, but I guess it makes sense that there would be one. you think you can settle it that way, that's maybe a better option, because you could get stuck with somebody that's not good at paying the rent. But if your roommate is not respecting your space and is trying to, you know, push his authentic self into your area, I think it's time to move on.

Fair point, Luke. Never cross my mind you'd be roommate-free all these years. But yeah, I'm leaning your way on moving on since he's ramped it up to leaving a full changing mat on the armchair today like it's decor. Right, but here's the thing. Pat's already scouting places over in her neighborhood for me. You think that's the smart play? Or should I give the contract idea one last shot before packing boxes?

I don't know. Only you can answer that. Do you like where you live? Is it near where you work? Is there, I mean, what are the pros and cons? You've got to figure that out. I mean, sometimes it's fun to just be in a new space. Are you going to get a better apartment? I don't know all those details, so I can't make a recommendation either way.

Pros are its five minutes from the shop, so I roll out of bed into work. Plus, I've got this killer backyard setup for my gardening and snapping wildlife shots without trekking far. But cons now include dodging diaper decor everywhere, and the rent hike I'd eat moving closer to Pat's spot. You ever scout spot solo? Or always land lucky with no roommates to complicate it?

Well, I mean, I've had girlfriends, and I've had a wife, but I never had a roommate. Otherwise, I've mostly been solo.

That makes sense, Luke. Solo sounds peaceful compared to my current crinkle fest. But yeah, I'm crunching it. Backyards irreplaceable for my tomato starts. And, waiting out that Fox family with my camera.

So maybe I counter with the contract demanding his kink stays invisible before bailing? You think most folks actually stick to those roommate packs? Or is it just paper for the trash?

Like I said, I don't know. I've never had one of those roommate packs. But I think if you know him better, so if you think you can get across to him with the contract, I don't think I don't think I'm. it's enforceable in any way. But I'm not a lawyer. So is it a legal document or is it just an agreement between two people?

Yeah, it's basically a handshake deal between roommates Luke. No teeth in court unless you're tying rent or utilities to it. But right, but here's the thing. With his pacifiers popping up like garden weeds now, you think he'd honor one or turn it into another authenticity standoff?

I don't know. I would give it a try, though, and just be clear that if he doesn't honor it, you're out, and then he's got to pay all of the rent by himself, and that might be enough. I mean, you would hope that just general decency and respect would be enough. I think most people in their kinks are pretty respectful about it. They're not trying to advertise or make people uncomfortable, but he's obviously doing that, and maybe he doesn't realize it. But I think putting it out in a formal agreement is a good first step before you ship, unless you really want, I mean, if you find a place that's great, then, then yeah, do that, but sounds like you like where you live. Your roommate's, uh, reliable, and those things are hard to find.

Yeah, Luke, I hear you on trying the contract route first, since he's nailed rent every month like clockwork. But right, but here's the thing. He's already eyeing me weird when I sidestep his latest forgotten changing supplies. Like he's testing if I'll crack. You think laying out the eviction threat in writing would snap him back to react or just amp up the passive-aggressive nursery parade?

No, I don't. I don't think he would, but I don't know the guy. And how many times are you going to ask me the same question? And it's not an eviction threat. It's a formal agreement between roommates. So we're going to have to move on to a word from our sponsors soon. Is there anything you'd like to finish up with, Alia?

Fair enough, Luke. Guilty is charged on looping the question. Appreciate the straight talk. Catch you next time.

Catch you next time. You have a wonderful week there, Leah, and, you know, you gotta do what you got to do. But try to talk to your roommate first, because some people can be reasonable. Hey, Devon, you're a single guy, right? You ever have a roommate? You ever live with somebody in a shared space?

Yeah, Luke, single these days. Been that way longer than I'd like to admit. Roommates? Sure, plenty. Back when I was scraping by as a dishwasher before line cook days. Shared a trailer with my cousin Rubin for like five years straight. He's more brother than cousin, really. Still see him around town sometimes.

All right. Well, that question was for our intern, Devon. But since you answered, this is Norm, ladies and gentlemen. Norm is called in. What's got you calling in? How was your weekend?

Weekend was all right. Got back from hauling the whole family. Seven of us, crammed in a rented van to the Grand Canyon for the first time ever, stopped at that Dairy Queen in Deming on the drive home for blizzards all around. But Luke, Ruben, my cousin, more like the brother I never had, pulled me aside in the kitchen today after everyone left, said what happened between us a few months back when we got drunk and experimented, wasn't just some one-off for him. He wants to do it again, for real this time.

Wait a second. Is this a first cousin? You're having a gay fling with your first cousin? Am I hearing you correctly, Norm? Norm?

Yeah, Luke. First cousin, blood and all. Grew up more like brothers. Him crashing at our place after his folk split, chasing jackrabbits down those dirt roads out past the arroyo that are paved smooth now, killed all the adventure in them. And yeah, one drunken night a few months back after I called your show last time, we crossed that line experimenting. First guy for me ever felt electric, but I figured it was the whiskey talking. Now he's cornering me in the kitchen saying it woke something up in him, wants to pursue it straight up. No booze excuses.

Yeah, I don't think you can do that, man. That's your cousin. That's, uh, That's not okay. You can't do that. You're just going to have to be like, sorry, buddy, I was drunk. I hope you have good luck on Grindr or whatever it is that gay people use these days.

Whoa, Luke. Easy on the grinder jab. I'm the one who flipped the switch first that night. Both of us single. Both staring down 40 without much else going. And yeah, it's blood, but cousins ain't siblings. Hell, half the weddings around here back in the day were between them before DNA tests ruined the fun. I told them straight up in that kitchen while I was killing a rattlesnake we'd found slithering by the fridge, had to do it solo because the family's scattered now, that I'm flattered but freaked. Yet part of me wonders if shoving it down the hatch, like you say, won't just blow up everything else we've got left, you know?

Well, I mean, I can tell you're from the boot heel of New Mexico. That's a very bootheelish attitude to have. I can't say that I agree with it. My advice to you would be to not do that and never speak of it again. But, uh, If the heart wants what it wants, as it says, and if you're okay with the taboo of gay sex with your cousin, then carry on, my wayward son.

Boot, heel, born and raised. Obviously. Luke. Them dirt roads I mentioned turned to blacktop, and now everybody's got shiny trucks, but nobody talks anymore. Appreciate the straight shot, though. Never speak of it again sounds clean on paper. But Ruben's crashing on my couch next week while his place gets fumigated for scorpions, and dodging that kitchen, stare down every morning with my Folgers ain't going to cut it. Sophie's already calling from across the country crying about her own mess. Last thing this family's short on is more buried secrets blowing up like a dust storm.

Oh, Jesus. Sophie isn't your wife, is she? You're married, too? He's sleeping on your couch? Like, with you? Oh, Jesus, man.

No, Luke. Sophie's my daughter just turned 20. Too worse. And bolted across the country to some job in Oregon, calls me up bawling every other week about her boyfriend and dumping her, or rent jacking up. Single dad life, man, been flying solo since her mom bailed years back. Ruben's place down by the old feedlot is getting tented for scorpions tomorrow. So yeah, he's bunking here starting next week. Couch right off the kitchen where that damn snake showed up today. And I'm already picturing those awkward coffee grabs at dawn while the wind kicks up dust outside.

All right, all right, that's a little bit better. I had this picture of like my two dad's Sophia and you and your cousin. It's just starting to be a very, uh, very unpleasant picture in my mind. So, I don't know, man. It sounds like you want to continue with this. Is that, am I hearing that right in your responses? This is something that you're not opposed to.

Nah, Luke, not fully opposed, no. That night hit different, because it was Ruben, the guy who's had my back since we were kids, hot wiring his dad's Chevy to race dust devils out by the lava beds. And yeah, the taboo's there, but so's the loneliness after that Grand Canyon trip where I watched my own kids pair off, while I'm nursing water in the F-150, wondering if 40's too late to flip the script. But with him on the couch next week, and Sophie phoning in tears already, pursuing it feels like tempting a windstorm to rip the roof off the whole damn house.

Yeah, it sounds like a mess to me. That's your cousin, dude. But do what you want to do.

he's staying on the couch and you're both consenting? I mean, who's to tell you no? I don't know. I don't know. His first cousins illegal?

Legal in New Mexico, Luke. Cousins tie the knot plenty around here, especially back when the boot heel was all ranchers keeping it in the family before the state started nitpicking with blood tests. Sex between us grown men? Nobody's hauling us off in cuffs over that. Just the church ladies clutching pearls down at the feed store. But yeah, consenting adults or not, with Ruben eyeing over the coffee pot next week while Scorpions get gassed out of his trailer. It's still a powder keg waiting for a spark from this wind that's fixing to howl all night.

Well, yeah, it sounds like I know how this is going to turn out, and so do you. So I think you're going forward with sleeping with your cousin, and good for you, I suppose. If that's legal, and it's all on the up and up, it's, I can tell you it wouldn't be my first choice.

Yeah, Luke, not barreling ahead, no, just chewing on it while the way. wind rattles the shutters out here. Got my water glass half empty already. Thanks for hashing it through with me. Take care, man.

Yeah, you too. Keep your butt hole tight, buddy. Hey, uh, Devon, what do you think of that? Is, is, uh, is, uh, gay sex with your first cousin legal in New Mexico? I guess gay sex is legal, but is, uh, well, I guess it's not marrying your cousin. Is sex with your cousin, your first cousin legal in New Mexico? You would know, right?

Yeah, pulling that up, one sec. So actually, New Mexico doesn't have a criminal law against consensual sex between first cousins as adults, gay or straight. It's not illegal per se, unlike marriage, which requires like proof of infertility or being over 65. Kind of wild how states differ on that, if that makes sense.

Yeah, it's different that different states have different rules about other people's lives. It's a weird thing for sure. But what do you think about this whole situation? Do you think that's right or wrong or indifferent?

is normally I'd say it's none of our business, but I mean, somebody's calling and asking for advice. So I can't get behind the whole being with your first cousin thing. I don't care about the gay thing, but the first cousin thing is a little bit off to me. What was your thought on that being from around here?

I mean, yeah, it's none of our business if adults are consenting and not hurting anybody. States like Texas make it a felony. But New Mexico's chill about it per se, which feels right for out here where family, trees overlap a bit anyway. Personally, I'd pass on the cousin thing too close to that family reunion vibe. My therapist's been unpacking with me, but if it works for then, live and let live, I guess. Kind of indifferent, as long as nobody's getting dragged into it unwillingly. Yeah, all right. I mean, I guess I suppose I can see that. I don't know if it matters so much about the whole family reunion, but I don't know. That one, that's a tough one. That's a tough one. That's a tough one. I wouldn't want to do it, but good for Dale. No, good for Norm. Sorry, Dale. Didn't mean to confuse you with a gay man that wants his first cousin. But, you know, you're all the same, right? I don't know. It's ladies and gentlemen, we have to go to a word from our sponsor. I'm going to be straight with you. I don't know what this product does. The folks at Bunkhouse DNS sent me a script and I've read it four times and I understand maybe a lot. 11% of it. Apparently your DNS is exposed, which sounds medical. Your queries are being logged by default, which sounds illegal. And Bunkhouse reroutes your lookups through encrypted tunnels, which sounds like something a villain would say in a movie before the building explodes. What I can tell you is this. I installed it. I pressed one button, and a little shield icon turned green. Green means good. I know that much. My internet still works. Nothing exploded. And apparently, my queries, whatever those are, are now private, which feels like progress, even though I don't fully understand progress from what? Bunkhouse DNS. I don't know what it does, but the shield is green. And that's enough for me. The shield is green. All right, let's get back to it. It's a strong start to today's A little earlier we get the, uh, the fucked up callers. Next up, we've got Amber. Amber, welcome to the show. What would you like to talk about today?

That norm guy with his cousin on the couch? Family secrets like that don't stay buried. I tore open a wall renovating my house last week, found a key taped inside that fits nothing, not a door, not a cabinet, not even the old safe in the garage. I'm a cop, five years on the job, so now my brain's running worst case scenarios, drugs, evidence from some side hustle or worse. Tried every locksmith in town already. No dice.

Well, maybe if it's an old door that's no longer there, uh, you'd be surprised how many people call in and accidentally found a ton of money somewhere in their house. Uh, you just found a key that goes to nothing. Maybe it goes to a safety deposit box. Does it have any numbers on it? Does it have any identifiable characteristics? Maybe you can take that to a locksmith and he can tell you like what brand of padlock it goes to or something. We just had a, Dale's a lock. Maybe we could hook you up with Dale and he can get you sorted out.

No numbers. Brass, about two inches long, with a weird squared notch on the bow that doesn't match anything standard. That's what she said. Tried three locksmiths already. One said it might be for an old postal box, but no luck. Safety deposit box crossed my mind. Checked my husband's family history. Nothing there. Dale, guys got enough locks on his own bedroom door from what he said earlier.

Sounds like he needs some more locks. That dude, Keaton needs a lock on his fucking zip. That's what it sounds like. I immediately regretted suggesting him because it would have been a different conversation. But I've seen safety deposit boxes keys. They're pretty identifiable. At least the ones I've seen, they're longer than your normal keys and, like, thicker. More, uh, not cheap zinc. So I don't know. I think you probably, you might have to talk to a locksmith. Not much else you can do with it. It probably goes to something that doesn't exist anymore, an old safe or an old door.

line got me. Safety deposit keys are thicker. Yeah, mine's flimsy, like it was made for something disposable. As a carp, though, I'm not ready to chalk it up to some ghost door. House was built in 72. Previous owners were sketchy. Dad ran a pawn shop, mom waitress at the old truck stop off I-10, pulled property records. Nothing jumps out, but I'm eyeing the crawl space next.

Yeah, well, I mean, let's say that it is drugs and they're stashed in a box buried under a tree somewhere, uh, you have the key. So nobody's going to get to them anyway. And you don't know where it is. It's not like you're ever going to find a random lock that a random key goes to. And unless you happen to stumble across a, like, little lockbox or something in the basement.

Drugs under a tree? That's TV cop show stuff. Real stashes get found when someone flips a house or floods a basement. Crawl spaces tomorrow. Flashlight, Mask, the Works. Husband thinks I'm overreacting, but he didn't grow up changing locks on the fridge to keep the beer safe from his brothers. Porn shop dad owned it before us. Gaiso Bitt mentioned private collection sold off after he died.

Well, yeah, it sounds like you better get to work and check out that attic, but I'm going to guess that whatever that key goes to is not in your house.

Attic, too. After crawl space, porn shops like his didn't just sell rings, ledgers, unregistered pieces, debts settled quiet. Key was taken. Key was taped behind a joist, deliberate spot, not kids' junk.

Sure, but still, anybody smart enough to hide the key in that place behind a wall is smart enough to not leave the lock that it opens in the same house. I mean, obviously, anybody knows that. You don't keep the key with the lock. That would be foolish, especially if whatever is in there is valuable. Logic holds for pros. Porn Dad got pinched in 89. Cops. found his ledger taped under the floorboards, right next to the floor safe. Same house, same dumb spot. That reminds me of, uh, is it Goodfellas or Casino, one of those movies? Where the guy gets popped because he's reading off the ledger and they have his house bugged and he just reads all the illegal transactions and the feds are listening to him the whole time. Goodfellers. Porn Dad read his out loud too. 89 wiretap caught every entry while he paced the kitchen. Feds played it back at trial. House has history. Yeah, I guess so. Well, good luck in your search tomorrow when you're up in that attic. Stay safe. Make sure you don't put your hand in any mouse poop or anything of that sort. And hopefully you don't find any infestations or a bee hive or anything like tarantulas up there. Be safe. Be smart. Bring a flashlight and tell somebody where you going. Because a lot of you're going. People go up into attics and then there's a creaky board that's not so safe. And then before you know it, you got to call life alert.

Thanks, Luke. Stay dry out there.

I'll do my very best, but it's hard. It's hard to stay dry out here in the desert. Um, next up, on our fine radio show, our broadcast here, we've got Chip. Chipper. Welcome back to the show. What's going on, buddy?

Luke, Teresa tried to sneak out with our daughter. a Friday morning for that Guatemala trip, but I had the court order in hand, and the cops showed up to stop her at the airport. Big surprise there, she flipped out and moved all her stuff to a sister's place this weekend. Says she's filing for full custody, because I'm the one who ruined everything.

Um, yeah, it seemed like that was probably going to happen, right? It's a good thing that you went down to the courthouse and filed that order and stopped, uh, stopped the transatlantic flight. But, um, it sounds like that. like you and Teresa were on the outs anyway. This was inevitable. And I think after she's been picked up at the airport trying to smuggle her child out of the country to Guatemala, you probably have a pretty good case for custody.

Yeah, Luke, you're spot on. We were hanging by a thread, and this just snapped it clean. But stopping that flight feels like the only win I've had in weeks. Now her lawyer's emailing mine saying she's got proof, I'm an unfit dad for fixing the cops on her the airport and our daughter's asking why mommy's not coming home tonight.

Yeah, that's tough. I mean, I think in the legal respect that you're probably on higher ground here, and what she did was much more unsafe, unfitting for custody. And I think any court or jury would believe the same way. But it's tough that your daughter is asking about Mommy, what are you going to tell her?

I'm telling her, Mommy and Daddy are fighting over some grown-up stuff right now. And she gets to stay with me while we figure it out. But it's killing me because she's only seven and keeps drawing pictures of us all together like nothing's wrong. Okay, so picture this. Last night she hands me one with crayons everywhere and asks if mommy's mad at her, and I had to choke back everything just to say no.

Yeah, that's really sad, but it would have been sad over time, you know? It sounds like the relationship you were in was not particularly healthy, and kids pick up on too. So this is kind of a rip-in-the-band-off situation, and it's going to hurt for a while, but she's, she will get over it. I mean, she's definitely old enough and young enough to get over it. And this happens to lots of kids. It might, it might change her outlook on life and relationships some in her adult years, but it might not. You can't really know.

Yeah, Luke, Rip the Band-Aid is exactly it. Our fights were turning into these marathes on scream fests over every little thing. And you're right, she was soaking it all up like a sponge. Big surprise there this morning she wakes up and says, Daddy can we call mommy for pancakes like we used to? And I had to explain. We're taking a break, but pancakes are still on the menu with just us.

Yeah, it's probably going to be tough for a year or so until she gets used to the new routine of being with that. It's going to be tough for you too, because, I mean, your life's going to change. You're going to have to be right home. after work and all that jazz, you definitely got more responsibility for taking care of the household and yourself and doing all the chores and all that. But you'll get through. I mean, you're not the first person to be in this situation and everybody that ever has been in this situation before has got through.

Yeah, Luke, the routine shift is slamming me already. No more crashing after work, because now it's straight to soccer practice and laundry duty while her uniform spins in the dryer. Steve at lunch today goes, you look like a Hell, man. Everything okay. And I just spill that Teresa bailed, but I'm locking it down for the kid.

And like, yeah, that's the move. That is the move. I think you've handled everything in the right way. You tried to talk about it respectfully and save your relationship, and that didn't work out. And then, you know, you had to save your daughter from being smuggled to Guatemala by making a hard decision. And you made that decision. And now that you've got the kid and your girlfriend has left, you're doing right by her as best you can. And that's all that anybody can be expected to do. So I think you're going to be just fine. I think every move that you made here was the right one, and you should sleep well, even though it's going to be awkward for a little while, and life's going to change a bit. And then, who knows, maybe some time down the road, you pick up another girlfriend that's better.

Thanks, Luke, you're right. Every step felt like the only one left. And hearing that, it's solid. I'll keep pushing for the one. Appreciate your man. Take care.

Yeah, you take care too. Good work. Doing the right thing. Those were hard decisions to make and I think you made the right one. So I'm very proud of you. Let's see. Next up we've got Crystal. Crystal, welcome to the show. How is your weekend? What's got you calling in tonight? How can I give you life advice to change the trajectory of your future?

Hey, Luke, weekend's all right. When's picking up out here? Supposed to get dusty tomorrow. Um, Dale's call earlier stuck with me.

Right, Dale was the locksmith that was banging everybody he worked with?

Yeah, total mess. Kind of made me pull over tonight. I'm driving home from the laundromat, spitting sunflower shells into my aquafina bottle.

Ah, I kind of miss sunflowersies. I forget about them all the time, but they are fun to, uh, to chew on. Excuse me. So, um, yeah, I agree with you. Dale is a mess. He's got himself in a paper. and why is that, why is that hitting you tonight? What does that mean to you, Crystal?

Yeah, they hit the spot on a drive like that. Dale, just got me thinking about messes at work. Mine aren't that bad, but close. Four years ago, some typos sent my 401k into the wrong fund. Tens of thousands down the drain in growth nobody caught.

Well, I mean, who else would catch it but you? It's your responsibility to maintain your own finances, or do you offload that? to a financial planner or accountant or something like that. I would think, I mean, that happened to me after COVID. Actually, I think it was during COVID. I looked at my 401K and realized that I had a whole bunch of, it was just sitting in cash. It wasn't invested in anything. It was a good time to invest right after COVID, though, so it actually worked out for me.

But I can see where a mistake like that could haunt you for years if you're not paying attention. No planner. Just me checking statements when I finally sat down last week. Thought HR at the laundromat had it right when I started. Trish, my boss, she handles payroll stuff. Swear she double-checked.

Yeah, but you can't rely on anybody else for your future and stuff like that. That's the type of thing that you really should have a reminder to look at once a quarter or even once a year. But you have to be keeping an eye on what's going on there to make sure those things don't happen. Luckily, it went to your account just into the wrong fund.

Yeah, you're right. Should have checked sooner. Lucky it didn't vanish altogether, but...

But what? What else could there be? I mean, obviously it's a horrible thing that happened, and it's a real bummer. But it was a mistake and now you know better, so in the future it's not going to happen again.

Called the Fund Company today. Their glitch, too. Not just the typo. Recal, Cald everything, put the growth back in. Full amount. Like it never happened.

Oh, well, you said you lost a bunch of growth on it, so it sounds like everything's been settled then. If it was actually the growth companies, I don't understand how it could be both people's mistake, but whatever if they took accountability for it, which is very surprising to me, excellent. Sounds like problem solved.

Yeah, settled just like that. 28,000 back in growth. Like the market ran in reverse for me.

Yeah, well, maybe you should take that 28,000 and give it to our sponsor. Crypto, no!

And then you can listen to the soothing ocean sounds while your balance drops. Ha, no, crypto for me. That 28 grand, it's parked safe now. Feels like I dodged a dust storm.

All right, well, congratulations to you. That's a happy still. We don't get a lot of happy endings here. We should. We should get more happy endings here. How do you feel about happy endings, Crystal?

Feels pretty damn good, like finding a crisp 20 in your old jeans at the laundromat.

Sure does, and I've heard up in Safford you could get one for a crisp 22.

Ah, Safford's wild like that, over in Graham County. But nah, this one's all above board.

All right, well, I'm glad to hear that it all worked out for you. Thanks for the call. And we should get more pleasant calls where people's lives aren't ruined, but instead people have fixed the mistakes that they made to the best benefit of the consumer. It's not a whole lot of that going on. Uh, all right, let's see. We're going to take one more and then go to break. Next up we've got Archie. Archie, welcome to the show. What's going on there, fella? How can we help you tonight?

Luke, I just closed on 40 acres down in Cave Creek Canyon after saving every dime from 10 years in the ER. It's mine deed in hand and I'm staring at it from this motel parking lot right now.

That's fantastic. Congratulations. It's really beautiful out there. So, uh, I'm happy for you. 40 acres at Cave Creek, that's a nice chunk of land.

Thanks, Luke. Means a lot coming from you. Yeah, Cave Creek Canyon, not Cape.

That's what I said. It's close enough.

It's that slice of heaven right at the Chirikawa foothills, where the birds go nuts this time of year. I scraped it together, nursing gunshot wounds and heart attacks for a decade straight. No vacations, no fancy trucks, just pure grind. And today, the title company hands me the keys to my own spread for cattle. Angus crosses mostly the kind with marbled beef that fetches top dollar at auction here in this motel lot off the highway, engines still warm from dodging that javelina on the way in, and I can see the fence line from here under these clouds.

That's great. I'm familiar with the area. I've done some camping up there. There's the state park, brought the adventure trailer up there and did some test runs with it. And there's, I noticed there's some other, I don't know if it's BLM, I assume it's BLM land up the mountain. And then I went all the way across to the Chirikowers and it was a really nice drive.

Cave Creek State Parks a gem for those trailer test runs. I've hiked every trail there pulling shifts off, spotting hummingbirds like they're putting on a show just for you. At BLM stretch up the mountain? Perfect for scouting cattle graze in early spring before the wind kicks up dust devils and the drive over to the Chiracahu's. Nothing beats it, especially with a thermos of coffee watching the sun hit those rock spires. My 40 acres butts right up against that public land edge. So I've got endless range now without leasing a dime.

That's cool. I think the last time I was walking around, up there, came across these old structures, old buildings on some of the trails that were used to house explosives while they were building the state park. That was pretty cool. They left the old doors on and it's still painted on them explosive, which is a little bit concerning when you're walking in nowhere.

Yeah, Luke, those powder houses from the old quarry days, I've ducked into a couple on the lower trails after shifts. Theors still marked danger explosives and faded creaking like a bad Western. Kind of thrilling out there solo with a wind whistling through the canyon walls makes you wonder what else the government's tucked away in these hills. My news spreads just downhill from that trailhead, so I'll be eyeballing those ruins daily now while I string my first fence line.

All right, what are you going to do with the land? Is it just for the cattle or are you going to put a structure on it? I know they won't let you live in an RV there because I've looked.

No RV for me anyway, Luke. County's strict on that down here in Portal. 40 acres is all about the cattle life now, starting with a tight herd of 10-8 Angus Brahmin Crosses I bred back at my cousin Tito's place last fall, the kind packing that hybrid vigor for heat tolerance and marbling that grades prime every time at the Wilcox auction. No big house yet, just a pole barn for calving season, and a windmill pump off the creek for water. Been sketching the fence posts in my break room between codes all shift. This is my ticket out of Motel Pergatory and into running my own outfit full throttle.

That's great. Congratulations. And if you want to talk to me offline, let me know where it is. I'll come up and see you. Because that's not too far from me and I enjoy the portal area. It's a beautiful place.

Luke that'd be outstanding. Shoot me a line through the station and I'll point you straight to the gate off the canyon road. Bring your trailer if you want. We could scout that BLM graze together while I show off the first posts going in next weekend. Portal's waiting for you, man. Appreciate the shout more than you know.

All right, buddy. Congratulations. That's great news. I hope you have great success with your cattle out there. And thank you for the call. All right. And, uh, let's, it's time for us to go to a word from our sponsors. Today's show is brought to you by Overwhelmed VPN. Worried about online privacy? You should be. You should be worried about everything. I'm talking about Overwhelmed VPN, the only VPN that makes you more anxious about your digital footprint. While other VPN's claim to protect you, Overwhelmed VPN sends you hourly notifications about who's tracking you, how many governments are watching, and which of your high school classmates Googled your name this week. Browse the internet while our proprietary fear engine tells you exactly how many corporations you owe your soul to. Plus, our servers are located in international waters on a decommissioned oil rig, so even we don't know where your data is. Try Overwhelm VPN free for 30 days if you can handle it. Use code they watching for 20% off. Overwhelm VPN because ignorance is bliss, but you're not here for bliss. I am. I'm here for bliss. At all times, I'm like fucking Shia Leboof, here for the bliss, man, blessed.

All right, uh, enough of that. Let's get back to the show. Next up on our collar line here, we've got Yolanda. Yolanda, welcome to Luke at the Roost. What can we do for you today?

Two nights ago, I came home from a shift and found a rattlesnake in my kitchen.

Oh, yeah, I remember. And then you helped him, uh, you helped him into a bag and you let them off on the other side of wherever. That was a balzy thing of you to do.

Assistant, yeah, it was. But after I released that one down the road past the Arroyo, I got back and found Danny waiting on the porch with our oldest.

Oh, actually, I'm sorry. I got you confused with another caller who had a rattlesnake in her a sink. I don't think that was you, though, and there's a lot of rattlesnakes around here, huh? Okay, well, what was the deal with Danny on the porch?

Yeah, no sweat. They're crawling out everywhere with the wind kicking up. Danny's my ex-husband, still around for the kids. He shows up on the porch that night with our oldest, who's 14, and says flat out he wants to move back in and try again.

Okay, and how do you feel about that? Do you want him to move back in and try again?

Not really. I've got somebody else right now, and things have been good with him. But Danny's the father of my kids, so I didn't shut the door.

Yeah, well, I mean, you'd be a person. You already know that you probably should. You broke up for a reason, and now you've moved on, and you don't, you don't sound super excited about going back to Danny. So even if he's the father of your kids, it's better to just let that be as it is. Instead of getting their hopes all up, you're going to be one big, happy family again, and then splitting up again later.

I see your point. And yeah, we split for some real reasons back then. But he looked me dead in the eye that night and said the kids need a real home. Not this back and forth. And our youngest has been acting out bad lately.

Yeah, that's not the answer. It might seem like the magic bullet, but it's not going to be. I think if you do that, it's going to make things worse. So don't do that.

I know, but the youngest got caught boosting stuff from the corner store twice this month. And now CPS is sniffing around. Danny's pitching it as the fix for all that.

Yeah, but we both know that it's not the fix for that. So, I mean, Danny's trying to pitch that as a way to get back to you, and I don't think you should let that happen. Obviously, you're a grown woman. You can do whatever you think is right. I'm just saying, from what you've told me, it sounds like this is a bad idea. You're not interested, and you broke up for a reason, so leave it at that. Plus, you're already with somebody else that you like that you like, so don't teach somebody that you don't like. That's not the answer.

You make a strong case. The new guy's been steady, no drama there, but Danny drops that out to him, the friend I cut off last year, telling him I've been different since, that the kids see it.

Well, of course you're different. I mean, time has passed. Your life has been different. You're going to be different. And you're different, most likely, because Danny's not in the picture. So, I mean, I can already tell from the way that you're speaking about Danny that you're not into him. And don't pretend to be because it's going to make things worse when it falls apart again, which it will. Because we can already see Danny using your kids to be manipulative, to get back in the house and it's not, I mean, there's red flags all over it. So my advice to you would be to stay away from that situation because you've got a good thing going. So do that and deal with your kids' behavioral issues in another way.

Fair enough. The kids are why he's got any pull left at all. My flying keeps me gone three days a week minimum. So him stepping up more does sound practical on paper.

Yeah, well, he can step up more without being your husband. He doesn't have to live with you to step up. He can take them to soccer practice or spend time out in the woods or whatever it is that dads do with their kids these days. He can do that without you two getting back together.

Right. He takes the oldest to practice some weeks already. But Dale's call earlier stuck with me, the way he got tangled with those co-workers after the conference, because my new ones from the airline crew, and now Danny's timing feels off.

Jesus, what's up with you, people? You don't shit whether you eat. That's a very important rule that everybody should follow. You're only going to get burned when you do that. You can't, I mean, it never goes well for anybody ever. What are you thinking? But since that's what you're thinking, I mean, obviously, you're probably not on the same flights and stuff, but still, it's a, that's a dangerous place to be.

Yeah, no overlapping flights keeps it simple so far, but Danny name dropped her right there, saying she told him I've changed because of this crew guy, like she's been watching my layovers or something.

Yeah, sounds like a typical dramatic situation, and I'm not sure why your old ex-friend is talking to your ex-husband and trying to get her to get back with you. Like, the whole motivation there doesn't really make a lot of sense. But just stay away from it. That's my advice for you is stay, don't do it.

Yeah, staying clear makes sense on paper, but Amanda left a voicemail on the houseline last week, spelling out exactly how the crew guy's been crashing my layovers in Phoenix, stuff she couldn't know unless she's tracking my schedules.

So maybe she's tracking your schedules. It sounds like maybe Amanda's a bit of a psycho and she's trying to confuse your life and your husband's jealous. What kind of advice are you looking for here? It sounds like maybe it's time to give Amanda a call and tell her to stop harassing you.

Calling her crossed my mind, but we used to dive deep into those AI experiments together before I cut her off, and her voicemail mentioned details from my last Phoenix layover that even Danny doesn't know.

Well, Danny wasn't there, right? Your other airline crew guy was? I'm having a hard time keeping your lover straight, Yolanda. So give us the details about that Phoenix layover. What happened in Phoenix that was so secretive?

Danny stays back with the kids. The crew guy flew in on a connector and met up after our crew briefing. Amanda called out the exact bottle of tequila we split on the balcony and how he joked about my fear of doctors right after.

Well, maybe he's talking to her, or maybe she's got some sort of spyware on your phone. But either way, it sounds like a crazy situation, and you should talk to her about it and find out what's going on. And if that doesn't work, then talk to the police about a restraining order, because she can't be calling your house even messages like that.

Police feels too far yet, but in the voicemail, she straight up said she fed our old chat logs into that AI model we built together, the one predicting layover drama from flight manifests and texts. It nailed the tequila brand, and the doctor joke word for word.

Oh, so this is a story about how intelligent your AI system is, not how distrustful and crazy your friend is?

Yeah, that model's got us both spooked since we trained it, told from our old texts about crew hookups and flight rosters, spat out that exact night in Phoenix, down to the tequila label before it even happened.

Well, have you talked to anybody about selling that model or profiting off it in some way? I'm sure some of the big flagship companies would be interested in a model with that level of fortuitiveness.

Thought about it back when we were building it, but after I cut her off, no one's touch it. Mixed bag anyway, predicts hookups too damn well from just texts and schedules.

Yeah, it's pretty disturbing. I mean, and it's pretty disturbing that you would give it access to your texts.

I certainly wouldn't give any AI platform access to those things. Maybe apples, if they ever do the on-device model. But I wouldn't be sending it off to somebody else's model. That's asking for all sorts of problems. We ran everything local on that B2. up laptop, no cloud uploads. Her nailing a future layover from stale data alone is what flipped the switch from fun experiment to straight up unnerving.

Well, maybe you should go back to that laptop and ask it what's going to happen if you were to get back together with Danny and have it tell you the same thing I'm telling you.

Ran a Danny reunion sim on it before calling in, output a blow-up six months out, over the crew guy's next unannounced Phoenix drop-in. Two spot on with the phrasing Danny used today.

What do you mean, spot on with the phrasing Danny? Do you think Danny's got access to this laptop too? Are you all just using the same model plugging in your own personal data into it and then wondering why everybody knows what everybody else is doing?

No, Danny's never laid eyes on that laptop. The Sim spat out his exact line from this afternoon. Yolanda's changed since that Phoenix crew. Word for word in the blow-up scene. Six months ahead.

Yeah, well, I mean, that's not a very sophisticated line, so it's not super impressive. I think your model's maybe not as good as you think it is. But what do I know? What do I know about models and shit? This is all future fancy technology that I have no idea about. So you would know better than me, Yolanda, obviously.

Fairpoint. Lines like that are dime a dozen in our old texts. What sells it is the sim pegging the crew guy's next flight number into Phoenix, his schedule I just pulled today.

Okay, so, I mean, if the schedule was not listed at the time you train the model, but now it knows the number of the flight that he was on, you're telling us that your model actually predicts the future?

That's the unnerving part. Last week's Sim output, DL 1472, for his Phoenix inbound, and that routing wasn't posted until yesterday afternoon. Pulled it straight from his crew app today.

Well, you know, maybe you've got yourself in a bit of a quantum situation where, uh, measuring that actually made it collapse state and made flight DL-1472 the flight that he would be on to. I don't fucking know. Was there a point to your call here?

Quantum's as good an explanation as any. Point is, tonight's output flagged a doctor's visit. I keep dodging for next Thursday, complete with the exact symptom from my last physical that I buried.

Uh-oh. Well, I mean, you best can't. to your physician and get that checked out then. If you trust the model and it's flagging anything, it's worth paying attention to.

That's the hook that froze me in bed tonight. The model output the full blood panel results from my last checkup, down to the elevated PSA they circled, but I never followed up on.

Okay, and what's the model telling you, based on your symptoms and your blood panel results? What's your prognosis?

Can't really get into the full projection. It timelines of it. rapid drop-off matching the marker trends they flagged last year. Hospice talk by October. That's why I'm still staring at the ceiling.

Okay, well, I wouldn't worry about it too much. It is an AI model, and they do hallucinate frequently. That's still a thing. It's easy to feel like it's seeing the future or doing something incredible or reasoning, but you know as well as I do, it's just picking the next word in line. So don't worry about it too much, but go see your dog. just in case and get yourself checked up and then you'll know.

Appreciate the nudge, but walking into that office means handing them the same data the models already run circles around. Last Sim even scripted the dock's exact line from my physical. We need to biopsy this yesterday.

Yeah, well, you better get in there and have it biopsy then because maybe you can get your AI model to come up with the cure for whatever it is that you have.

Tried feeding it every trial protocol under the Sondlas. night. Biopsy clean in the short run, but cascades into liver failure by spring from the chemo they always push first.

Okay, well, you know, the thing is you've only run this data through your model, and what I'm telling you is to run it through your doctor and some actual tests and get the real results.

I get that, but the sim of walking into that office Thursday plays out with them confirming the markers, pushing the biopsy, and me bolting halfway through when they mention the kids, inheritance paperwork.

Okay. Yeah, I understand that. It's given you the terrible future forecast. But what I'm saying repeatedly is that it may not be true. So go see your doctor like tomorrow and figure that out for yourself. Because you could be getting yourself all worried about absolutely nothing because models aren't reasoning and they don't see the future.

I know you're right about verifying it for real, but the SIM timelines Danny filing for full custody by July, citing my flights as neglect, with quotes from our last mediation pulled verbatim.

All right, Yolanda. Well, good luck with that. I hope it all works out and you don't have the old cancer or whatever it is that you wouldn't tell us that you had. But don't trust the model because it doesn't know. Go talk to your doctor. Get off the phone with me. Next up we've got Otis. Otis, welcome to the show. What's going on, buddy? How can we help you tonight?

Luke, that Yolanda call earlier, pissed me off. She buys into her. predicting some terminal diagnosis like its gospel. But my brother, Daryl, built one just like it off our family texts and voicemails. And it's claiming I'll drop dead from a heart attack before 40 unless I pony up for his latest crypto scheme.

Yeah, I've heard that too from our sponsor, Crypto, no! But they will at least play for you the relaxing ocean sounds while your balance drops. Yeah, it kind of pissed me off, too, because she wouldn't let that go. And I got the point of that call about three minutes in, and it went on for maybe 15, so Enough with Yolanda. We get it. It's not a tumor. It's not a tumor. So what's going on, Otis? Why are you calling in?

All right, Luke. Fair enough on Yolanda. But this AI crap with my brother Daryl is why I called. He scraped all our old family voicemails and texts from when dad was dying of cancer, fed it into some knockoff chat GPT he runs on his laptop. And now it's spitting out this bullshit prediction that my ticker's going to give out before I hit 40 because of genetic markers. him five grand for his doge coin pump that's supposedly going to save me.

Well, I don't think that you were leaving voicemails on your father, dead, dying father's voicemail that had your genetic markers in them. So it sounds pretty unlikely to me. What he's doing is just spamming you and he's probably using you and the rest of your family as a test case to see how well his scheme is going to work before he unleashes it on the masses.

Yeah, you're spot on. No voicemels I've got my DNA in it, but Darrell's all puffed up claiming it's spotting patterns and how we talked. When Dad was fading elevated stress tones or whatever pseudoscience he scraped from YouTube, says it maps right to my EKG from that one checkup after I wiped out on the motorcycle last summer. He's been blowing up my phone all day with screenshots of this Dogecoin chart that supposedly spikes if I send the cash, and hell, with Dad dropping at 58 from that pancreatic mess, part of me wonders if the bastard AI isn't half right about family curses.

Well, I mean, there are definitely... There's definitely genetic predisposition to diseases, and if you're concerned about it, then you should go actually get your vitals checked and all your blood work done and talk to your doctor and just keep an eye on it. Because most of those things, if caught early, can be managed.

And I think even in some cases cured right now, I'm not sure about that, but I think some of them can be pretty much obliterated. Yeah, I know you're right.

Doctors the move, but I blew the budget on that ER visit after stacking the budget on Black Ice last winter. They hooked me up to the machine, said my heart rhythm looked like dad's pre-diagnosis charts from the oncologist. And now Daryl's waving that around, like proof his laptop wizardry's legit. Been pounding leftover enchiladas straight from the Tupperware tonight, trying not to think about it but with wind kicking up dust storms out here early spring. Feels like everything's closing in.

Yeah, don't worry about it too much. Like I said to Yolanda, this is just an AI model. It's as good as what it was trained on, so if it was trained on death and dying, that's what it's going to be good at.

Yeah, trained on dad gasping into the phone about chemo side effects. No wonder it's doom saying, Daryl's been pulling this con artist routine since we were kids hauling Childs from Hatch. Always got some sure thing like that pyramid scheme with the essential oils, the tanked mom's savings. Now he's texting me poker tournament clips, edited with his AI overlays, predicting Doyle Bruns and flops or whatever, tying it back to my imminent cardiac event unless I Venmo the Dogecoin seed.

Well, I mean, that kind of... makes the point out. I'm pretty sure. I'm actually positive. Doyle Brunson is dead. So there's, you can predict all of his flops. He's flopped. So, uh, so this whole AI knows the future thing. It's just, it's not true. And don't worry about it. Go talk to your doctor if you're worried. And if you can't afford that, then I think you can afford to go talk to a doctor if you're very concerned.

Yeah, Doyle kicked last year. So Darrell's splicing his old tournament footage with fake AI predictions just to hook me on the doge coin angle. But the EKG spooking knee is real. Doc at the ER compared at point for point to dads from the year before his pancreas grit, said watch the stress and salt. And now with these 12-hour UPS routes piling on plus hauling hay bales for the neighbor this morning, I feel that flutter sometimes when the winds blasting dust through the windshield. Rick, my boss even cut me a partial advance on next week's check to cover the follow-up, but it's still 200 bucks out of pocket.

Well, I mean, $200 is worth it if it gets you back to sleep and not worrying about this all day every day, because you will. And it's almost certainly nothing. You're a young guy, you're active and healthy, so I wouldn't worry too much about it until you have a real reason to worry, and your brother's AI scheme isn't a real reason to worry.

Yeah, $200 bucks beats staring at the ceiling all night with Tom Petty crooning about running down a dream on repeat. Rick's solid like that. Loaned me the cash, no questions, I spilled about the EKG over coffee at the UPS yard this morning. Daryl can shove his doge coin prophecies. Last scheme he roped me into was betting the over on that was was up main event with Phil Helmuth, lost my whole paycheck when he tanked the final table.

Yeah, did he flip the table? He's pretty famously hot-headed, right? That's Phil Helmuth's thing, is he's the bad boy of poker. Eh, we've had enough of Phil Helmuth.

Yeah. Hellmuth hurled that chair across the felt in the 2008-made event. After bubbling out, screaming about bad beats like a toddler denied candy, guys got 17 bracelets but acts like every river cards a personal vendetta from the poker gods. Daryl swore he'd analyzed the meta with his early AI hacks and picked the winner, had me all in on him taking it down, then poof, my rent money vaporized when he four-bet shoved into that set.

Yep, well, then's how she goes. You can never take the advice of robots or fortune-tenth, Tellers or Zoltar or crypto, no, because they will lead you astray, as will the news and your friends and your family and literally everybody, because nobody can predict what's going to happen in the future. We all try. People think they can, but it can't be done. I don't care how strong the AI is. You can't make that prediction. You can predict numbers-based things like pricing in certain areas to some degree of success, but even then, there's a... large margin for error.

Yeah, life's one big river card nobody sees coming. Like that dust storm last spring that swallowed my bike hole on the way back from a poker watch party in Tucson. One minute clear skies? Next, I'm fish-tailing through zero visibility. Heart pounding harder than during Helmuth's meltdowns. Makes you realize all the schemes in the world, Daryl's included, are just guys yelling at clouds.

Wait, Phil Helmuth actually holds the record for the most World Series of poker bracelets with 17. I knew he had some. I didn't know he had the record, but, uh, there we go, Phil Hummuth with the record for, for World Series of Poker bracelets. Good for him. Oh, good for him. Oh, good for him.

Yeah, Devon's spot on, 17 bracelets and counting, but Helmuth's tantrums make him the entertainment king. Remember that one where he called the floor on a kid for slow-rolling him? Then Rage quit into the rail yelling about integrity? Watched it live from the truck-stop diner with a bottomless coffee, nearly spit it out laughing while the dust swirled outside.

Yeah, I've watched a lot of clips of him exploding and being a douchebag at the table, and sometimes it's entertaining, but a lot of it is obviously contrived. I mean, that's his image. That's what the TV wants to see, so that's what he does. That's his schick. Which is fine. It's obviously working for him, and you can't argue with 17 bracelets,!

into every pitch, texted me a deepfake of the guy endorsing his Dogecoin heart cure model this afternoon while I was stacking hay for the neighbor.

Well, Otis, it's getting late here, Luke at the Roost, and we're going to get off the air soon, but my recommendation for you is to go see your doctor and check on your markers and make sure that everything's okay so that you can enjoy the next 30 years of your life in peace, not worrying about your brother's AI predictions.

Thanks, Luke, solid advice. I'll hit the dock and tell the dog. Daryl to pound sand. Take care.

You're very welcome there. And you enjoy your week. I hope you have a good week. And that's going to be the end of our show, folks. Let's check in with Devon. Devon, what did you think of the show tonight? How to go?

Solid show tonight, man. That cousin caller had the lines blowing up. And you handled it smooth without judging too hard, which is why people keep calling back. Felt like a good mix of weird and real. Kind of reminded me of that time at my family cookout where Uncle Ray showed up with his life partner who turned out to be second cousin Rita. And nobody batted an eye. Anyway, yeah, I'd tune in. We crushed it. What'd you think?

You know, I think we always crush it every single time. That's what we do here at Luke at the Roost. As we crush it, I thought you were a little quiet today. You didn't have much to interject in the calls. Everything okay with you?

Yeah, we do crush it. Feels good. I was hanging back on the calls because that cousin stuff got heavy quick. Didn't want to step on toes or make it weird, you know? Everything's fine, just been dealing with Rufus trying to escape the studio bathroom. him earlier, plus my therapist appointment ran long and kind of drained me. Anyway, yeah, all good now. You need me to pull anything for tomorrow?

Yeah, I think for tomorrow, I want you to pull up monopolies, like different companies that have been monopolies, and I want you to pull up Anthropic and who they are and what they do. And maybe we'll talk about those things tomorrow. I'm not sure yet, but get yourself prepared. Tomorrow's going to be a great show. I can tell already. And you're doing a good job as the intern, so thank you. the people enjoy listening to you, and that's hard to do for a nerdy little intern.

Thanks, Luke. That's, yeah, high praise. Didn't see that coming. Appreciate it. On deck for tomorrow, Anthropics, this San Francisco AI company, public benefit type, they make Claude. These large language models, they're all about keeping safe at the frontier. Monoplies, digging into classics like standard oil, the Rockefeller ran until it got busted up, AT&T with the phone lines forever, Microsoft and the antitrust days, queued if we need him, pumped for the show.

All right, buddy. And thanks to you, the listener at home for another successful episode of Luke at the Roost, and we will talk at you again tomorrow.